A Green Tie Between Friends
by WordNerdingFTW
Summary: When Felicity surprises Oliver with a simple, green silk tie, his curiosity about her is piqued in new ways. As he explores his feelings towards Felicity, things get complicated for the man who vowed not to let anyone past the protective barrier he'd set up on the island. Romance. Feels. Slow burn. The tie plays a recurring role throughout the story.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first ever attempt at fanfiction, so please be gentle. I'm still learning the ropes around here, but I'm excited for a place to express my Olicity love. I completely adore these two together,and I wanted to explore their relationship more, so fair warning, this story will probably get long. I'm going to sort through a scenario in which Oliver discovers he has romantic feelings for Felicity, how complicated that realization is for him and how dangerous that truth is for her. Plus, of course, the fact he cannot deny his feelings forever and how she responds to this revelation...Can you hear my brain screaming? Sorry about that.

* * *

Oliver's fingertips grazed the tie beneath his sleek black jacket. He fastened the final button and left his office on a thank you mission.

Oliver smiled at the secretary outside his door. "Hold my calls, please."

"Yes, Mr. Queen."

Shiny elevator doors opened as he approached. Perfect timing. Since opening the poorly wrapped box on his desk, the idea of waiting on anything had seemed impossible. He crossed the threshold and examined the reflection before him. Normally, Oliver averted his eyes where mirrors were concerned. The small white scars on his chin, neck and forehead went unnoticed by most, but to him they glowed above the crisp white collar of his dress shirt, reminding him of the days he spent on the island. Calloused fingers found the soft material at his throat and adjusted his new tie with admiration. A simple gift. No reason, really, for the impact to be so great, especially since it wasn't his birthday. A knot of emotion lodged in his throat. He wasn't someone in need of gifts.

Oliver stuffed his hands casually into his pants' pockets, seeking the little note. He ran his fingertips over the folded piece of Queen Consolidated memo paper, remembering the words "Happy Birthday" were scratched across the stationary lines and a tiny scripted F stood beneath. Surely, Felicity knew it wasn't his birthday. Felicity knew everything. What she didn't know, she could uncover with a few strategic keystrokes. She was brilliant. Beautiful. And surprisingly unpredictable.

A short intake of breath froze his limbs and stopped his thoughts. The reflection before him smiled. Oliver relaxed his shoulders. He was smiling.

"Have a good day, Mr. Queen." Several passengers behind him slid past as the doors opened on a new floor.

Oliver lifted a palm in acknowledgement, not needing to force the congenial smile he wore to work every day. Instead, he worked to control the silly look on his face. He clasped his hands behind his back and waited. Two more floors. His gaze found the tie's reflection once more in the mirrored doors. Green. Of course. An inside joke. A perfect gift. He worked his lips back to an appropriate expression before people wondered if he suffered brain damage while he was away.

As the doors parted again, Oliver stifled the urge to jump out. Instead, he waited a beat before entering the hallway marked IT Services. The door he sought was open. Felicity's chair was empty. His smile fell.

"You looking for Felicity?" A voice behind him asked.

Oliver whirled around. "Yes. Is she in today?"

The fair skinned kid stopped short, paling further. "Mr. Queen. I'm so sorry. I didn't know that was you." He balanced a tray of coffees on a pizza box. "It's lunchtime, so I thought, you know, she gets asked to lunch a lot, so…."

Oliver stretched his arm before him, revealing the time on his oversized, overpriced watch. "Lunch time." He shook his head, unsure if the confoundment came from the fact it was already lunchtime, or that Felicity had numerous lunch suitors. His jaw twitched. The idea Felicity has a social life surprised him, though it shouldn't. She had to do something when she left Queen Consolidated and wasn't manning the lair under Verdant. He turned back for the elevator. Something tightened the muscles in his shoulders. Did he care that she had lunch dates? No. What about date-dates? He pressed the button for the elevator and glared at his reflection. No. Of course not. Oliver rubbed his forehead as the doors opened, and he stepped onboard.

Alone in the elevator, he scrutinized his reflection. Why did she give him a birthday gift two months after his birthday? Who were all these lunch dates? Why didn't he know she had lunch dates? Where did they eat lunch? In the company cafeteria or in local restaurants?

The doors opened, startling Oliver.

Diggle stepped onboard. "Hey, I was on my way up to see if you want to get some lunch. Where're you headed?"

Oliver glanced overhead at the floor number. He'd stepped on board at the IT floor and failed to press a button, riding the elevator to the ground level instead of to his office as he'd planned. What was wrong with him today? He shook his head as if to dislodge the confusion.

"Well?" Diggle pressed.

"Sure." Oliver smiled. "Lunch sounds nice."

Diggle held the door for Oliver to exit. "Nice tie." He chuckled, clearly amused at the reference to Oliver's nighttime escapades.

"Thanks, it was a birthday gift."

The men crossed the busy lobby of Queen Consolidated. A brilliant autumn day waited for them. Sunlight shone off the rain dampened streets. Sidewalks were speckled with fallen leaves in every conceivable shade and hue of fall.

Diggle stopped at the corner. "Should I get the car or do you want to walk somewhere?"

A familiar laugh floated on the breeze to Oliver's ears. "Did you hear that? I think I heard Felicity."

Diggle turned, scanning the open plaza. "There. Looks like she's already eaten. Maybe we can invite her tomorrow."

By the time Diggle had spoken, Oliver had already noted the close proximity of her lunch companion at her side. They sat on a low wall near the building, drinking gourmet coffees and sharing fries from a paper basket. Their bodies angled in on one another as they spoke. Their knees nearly touched.

Oliver turned to Diggle. "Who's that with her?" Whoever he was, Oliver didn't like him. He was too old for her. Too plain. Too… Oliver looked at the couple again. No. Not a couple. Just two people having lunch. The man was probably harmless. In fact, it was nice Felicity had friends at the office. Oliver had worried about her comfort level at Queen Consolidated when he'd asked for help with _other_ things. Considering all the secrets she kept for him at night, he hadn't wanted her to be unhappy during her regular workdays. She'd always seemed happy when he and Diggle came to ask for help at the office. He feared he'd ruin that by asking too much of her. Felicity's laughter drew his eyes back to her. Wide red lips smiled around the rim of her coffee cup. Tendrils of steam rose into the air above her nose. Strands of long blond hair blew across her forehead in the wind. Apparently, he'd worried without cause.

Diggle crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know him. He looks harmless enough to me. Why? Do you think he's up to something?"

Absolutely. Oliver pursed his lips. Felicity was a big girl. She had an uncanny ability to see people for what they were, and he trusted her judgment. She wasn't some gullible child. He didn't need to worry about her. Except that he did. Strange. His protective instinct must've carried over from Thea and his mother to Felicity. Though he also worried about Laurel, but they dated. He and Felicity were definitely not dating. He ran a heavy hand through his hair and kneaded the back of his neck. Motivations, like emotions, were far too complex for explanation, which was why he did his best to avoid these kinds of thoughts. Yet, there he stood sifting through his illogical compulsions on a street corner.

"Oliver?" Diggle stepped into his view. "Do you want the car or are we walking?"

"Just a minute. Do you mind if we….Can I just…" Oliver cleared his throat and organized his thoughts. He swallowed once, rolled his shoulders back and leveled his eyebrows. "How about we get burgers? If you get the car, I'll meet you back here."

His feet were moving before the final word left his lips.

"Felicity." He stopped before her suitor and extended a hand. "Oliver Queen."

The man dusted his palms together and stood, unshaken by Oliver's name. "Frank Maloney."

Oliver forced the usual tight smile. "Nice to meet you." Not at all.

Frank smiled back without speaking. His eyes trailed over Oliver, unimpressed. Oliver returned the gesture.

Felicity popped onto her feet. Her hands flitted in the air, finding nowhere to land. "Hi. Uh, yes, hello, Mr. Queen. Is there something you need?" Thin sculpted eyebrows rose beneath her glasses.

A black pencil skirt hugged her slender figure as a fresh gust of wind began. The silk of her blouse clung to the curves of her chest. She adjusted her glasses. A nervous habit Oliver picked up on the first time they'd met.

He turned his shoulder to Frank, focusing his full attention on Felicity's bright blue eyes. It took effort to pull his gaze from the effects of wind on her fair skin. The goose bumps forming over her exposed collarbone gave him ideas he wasn't sure how to deal with. No doubt the same ideas on Frank's mind. Oliver shot a look over his shoulder to check his theory. Frank watched Oliver through narrowed eyes. Interesting.

In the distance behind Felicity, Diggle slid the car against the curb. Oliver waved. His time was up. He touched the knot of his tie. "I wanted to stop by and thank you. I was pleasantly surprised when I returned to my desk today. Job well done, Miss Smoak."

Felicity's gaze darted from Oliver to Frank and back. She nodded quickly. Her eyes wide with what appeared to be a mix of panic and humor. Oliver's heartbeat picked up at the thought he shared a secret with Felicity Smoak. She might have plenty of lunch dates, but he doubted they got very late birthday gifts from her without warning, though filled with meaning. His lips strained against a smile. He couldn't afford the slip. Frank struck him as the kind of guy waiting for dirt on the boss, and while Oliver had plenty of dirt to dig up, he'd never let any of it settle on Felicity.

Oliver took a wide step backward, realizing he'd encroached on her personal space. She was magnetic, or perhaps like a fire, warm and bright when everything else lately was so cold and unrelenting. His lips tipped on one side. That analogy made Oliver a moth. He'd thought of himself as many things, but never a moth.

A simple green tie had befuddled him. He'd better leave before his ridiculous thoughts manifested into embarrassing actions. Who knew what he'd do. Sing? Flick Frank on the nose?

Oliver lowered his voice to the usual well composed tenor and nodded a goodbye. "I'll leave you to finish your lunch, Miss Smoak. Thank you again. Nice meeting you, Fred."

Oliver strode toward the waiting car, satisfaction burning in his chest. Whatever was wrong with him today, he'd enjoyed the shocked look on Felicity's face. He'd hear about it later at the lair, no doubt. In fact, he'd look forward to that. As for Fred... Oliver smiled.

Frank called from the growing distance behind him. "The name's Frank."

Oliver dropped into the backseat of the town car and smiled wider still. "Whatever."


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you so much for your reviews and comments. You've been really encouraging and you have no idea what that means or how much I needed it. I couldn't wait to write chapter two today. Thank you!

* * *

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and first finger. The number of decisions he made at Verdant in the hour before opening each night far surpassed those he made at Queen Consolidated in a week. This was to be expected, of course. Queen Consolidated was a long established, well-oiled machine with highly qualified management in place at every level. Verdant was a different animal, a fledgling project with endless minutiae to wade through. He scratched his signature across the final paper and closed his eyes against an afternoon of tedium.

"If I knew you were taking a nap, I'd have stopped for the latte I wanted." Felicity's voice snapped Oliver onto his feet.

She stared, blank-faced. "You okay? I was only kidding about the latte." She lifted a hand. Electric blue nails curled around a pink polka dotted travel mug. "I never skip the latte."

"Good." He strode to her side and opened the door to the lair downstairs. "After you."

She watched him for several long beats before passing through the open door. A laptop bag positioned across her body drew his eyes to the curves he'd admired earlier. "Are you getting enough sleep? You seem different today."

"Yes." Right on both observations. Oliver rubbed a heavy palm over his eyes. She'd changed into form fitting black pants and a V-neck sweater. The new outfit covered more skin than the thin blouse and skirt she'd worn to work, but somehow this was more seductive. He tilted his head, admiring the natural sway in her hips as she took the stairs before him. Very feminine for such a serious lady. His thoughts churned shamelessly. What other feminine things she might do? Why doesn't he know about them?

Felicity sat at her desk and locked eyes with him. Oliver slipped off his jacket and hung it over the back of the nearest chair. The temperature in the lair was a bit cooler than average to accommodate his workouts and a bank of hard drives against the far wall. Felicity wrapped both palms around her latte and held it under her chin.

His tired fingers worked the knot of his new tie loose. A good workout would get his head on straight. He'd concentrate on a routine for his core and arms until Diggle arrived for combat practice. No more errant thoughts about smart girls with too many lunch dates.

Felicity, glared at her monitor over the brim of her mug.

He stretched his neck side to side. "Everything okay?"

She huffed, dropping back in her chair and tipping her face skyward. A mass of blond waves fell over the back support. "I'm having a confusing and exhausting day."

"Really?" Oliver stepped closer, drawn in by the idea Felicity had problems other than the ones he caused her. He bit the inside of his cheek. What he asked of her wasn't fair. Keeping his secret was a nearly impossible task, then to expect her to support him on something she didn't fully understand, or want to understand… it was too much. She hated the killing. She questioned his priorities. She spent far too much time dealing with his messes. The muscles in his jaw ticked. It was stupid of her to get involved, and awful of him to drag her in.

Felicity straightened in her chair. "I said I had an exhausting day, and now you look murderous. This is the kind of thing I'm talking about. Confusing. Did I miss something?"

His fingers tugged the slick fabric of his tie free from his collar. The shiny green material doused his bout of self-loathing with another round of curiosity. He lifted it in his fingertips. "Why'd you give me this today?"

She squinted her eyes.

What did that mean? Did she not understand the question? Should he not have asked? He pressed his lips into a thin line before he asked more questions.

"It's for your birthday. I lost the card, so I wrote Happy Birthday on company memo paper. Didn't you see the note?" She set her mug aside and lifted a pen to her lips. "Okay, I didn't lose the card. I didn't actually buy one. I tried. I read so many cards the clerk probably thought I was homeless and hiding out in the card aisle to stay warm." A long breath blew over her lips. "They say there's a card for everything, but they don't make a card for you, so that whole bit is a lie." She shoved a wedge of hair behind both ears.

Oliver widened his stance. She'd said plenty of words, but none that answered his question. "Today's not my birthday."

Felicity wet her lips and shifted in her seat. "Well, yeah. I mean, I know that, but I wanted to get you something and you said 'no presents on my birthday,' so I just left it at my place for a while. I thought I'd give it to you the next day, but then I forgot about it, and I accidentally set a stack of books on the box and kind of flattened it. It looked nicer two months ago, but you didn't want it then. Jeez, I'm not blaming you for anything." She sighed audibly and covered her lips with one hand. "It's just… that's why it looked like I stomped on it, but I didn't."

Oliver's lip twitched. "You kept my gift for two months because I said I didn't want any presents on my birthday."

She nodded. "Pretty much."

Oliver moved to her desk and leaned against it. A smile tugged at his lips as he stared down at her. A fresh blush spread over her cheeks and spilled onto her chest in patches. With effort, he pulled his focus back to her eyes.

If everyone opened their mouths and told him what they were really thinking, his night job would be much easier. The rest of his life would be miserable. He read people well enough to know what most saw when they looked at him. Spoiled rich kid. Womanizer. A man living off the empire his father built. His mom thought he was broken. He saw it in her eyes when he didn't react as she'd expected to random stimuli. He tried to remember how the old Oliver would respond to things, and in most cases, he executed the farce flawlessly, but sometimes his mother saw through the façade. In the small hesitations, the missed cues, and flubbed nuances, she knew. The Oliver she raised wasn't the one who came home.

Felicity watched him with thoughtful eyes. With any luck at all, she couldn't read his mind.

He forced a tight smile. "I like the tie. I'm sorry you felt you had to wait to give it to me. That was rude of me. I only made the request because I didn't want you to feel obligated to buy me things because we work together. I've seen bosses take advantage of their staff, even manipulate them." He stopped speaking before he made it worse. He could tell by the set of her brow he'd offended her while trying to explain he hadn't meant to offend her two months ago. His fingers curled at his sides. Why were words so hard for him when they came so easy to her?

Her eyes softened. "It's not a big deal. I saw it and I thought of you, so I bought it. It looks nice with your eyes." She turned her face away. The blush spread. "I mean, what do you get the guy who has everything, right?" Her fingertips found the keyboard once more and moved at an impressive speed.

His voice quieted. "I don't have everything."

"Well, now you have a two dollar tie off the St. Patrick's Day clearance rack." She smiled.

His lips parted. She'd bought a millionaire a two dollar tie from a holiday clearance rack. A chuckled escaped. She was funny. Everyone else got hung up on the differences in their net worths and forgot the bigger things they had in common, like friendship or humanity. Felicity was different. She was his friend. He cleared his throat of building emotion. This loquacious little blond was important to him. It was odd, the way some little revelations knocked the wind out a man as easily as the big ones.

Her fingers stilled on the keys. "Can I ask you something?"

He turned his eyes on hers and waited. She'd ask her question regardless of his response. They'd been through this scenario before. What would it be this time? Curiosity tilted him towards her, as if he might see into her thoughts if he concentrated deeply enough.

"What was going on at lunch today?"

Oliver straightened, squaring his shoulders. So, she wasn't letting that go, then. Just when he thought she hadn't noticed he was being weird. He cleared his expression, feigning innocent. "I stopped to say thank you."

"Yeah, and did you also stop to give Frank the stink eye? Is he on your radar for something?"

"Should he be?"

Her jaw dropped. "I don't know. You tell me. You're the super hero."

Oliver scoffed. "What do you know about Fred, anyway?"

"Not much. He seems nice. He has a lot of computer problems."

She didn't correct him on Frank's name. Why? Was he not important to her? Did she say Frank had a lot of computer problems? Pft. "I bet."

Her blue eyes flashed. "What was that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Something. Either you think he's stupid and needs continuous help…"

Oliver coughed to cover another laugh.

"Or you think he'd manipulate me by making false calls to the IT Department."

Oliver pointed at her.

She tapped a pen against full red lips. "Okay, maybe."

"Which one?"

She rolled her eyes and adjusted her glasses.

Satisfied he was off the hook, Oliver worked through the buttons on his shirt and tugged the crisp white dress shirt off his shoulders. He stripped out of the sleeves and tossed it on the counter with his tie. "I heard you have a lot of lunch dates. Are they all from Queen Consolidated? Do I know any of them?" Oliver stepped behind a stack of file cabinets and changed into pants better suited for a heavy sweat than moleskin suit trousers.

He reemerged, ready to begin his core and arms regimen and stopped short.

Felicity stood two feet away with her arms crossed over her chest. Her expression had changed from thoughtful to cold. He stepped back on instinct.

"What are you up to? Asking about my lunch dates. Seeking me out when I'm with another company employee. Do you have any idea how many of Frank's questions I had to answer when you left? I had to play dumb. _Dumb_. Do you know how that makes me feel?"

An impish grin marred his careful expression. "Mad?"

She blinked. "Frustrated. I vowed never to be that girl, Oliver. I don't care if I'm different or too smart or awkward anymore. I like me. I don't like batting my eyes and pretending to be clueless. _Gee, Frank, doesn't Mr. Queen seek out everyone while they're at lunch to thank them for doing their job?_"

"You batted your eyes?"

Felicity turned on her heels and headed back to her desk mumbling, "I'm gonna bat your eyes."

She sat, stiff backed in her chair. "Stop with the face. I will find out what you're up to."

Oliver jumped to grab the pull up bar overhead. His smile widened. "Don't count on it."

If Felicity figured out what he was doing, he'd love to know because so far today he didn't have a clue.


	3. Chapter 3

Oliver stared through his office window, calculating strategy variations for the Hood's next target. Many stories below, faceless figures formed knots and clusters on the sidewalk, mingling with others dressed in similar corporate casual attire. Indian summer had made a dramatic reappearance, drying puddles in gardens and encouraging those on the street below to leave their coats behind. Sunlight twinkled off the windows of skyscrapers in the distance. The local weatherman called for favorable temperatures throughout the day and good visibility tonight. It was a good night to change your life. That's what he'd tell the next man on his father's list. Hopefully this one was smarter than most of the others. Smart was hard to find these days.

He pulled the phone from his pocket as it vibrated against his thigh. A text from Diggle. He was waiting in the parking garage as planned. Oliver threaded his arms into the suit jacket he'd folded over his chair's back that morning. Time to review the night's details before cutting the day short in preparation for the evening ahead.

He followed a crowd onto the elevator and considered briefly a few dozen flights of stairs. When the doors opened, the car was empty. Not for long. During the long descent, they seemed to stop on every floor as hundreds of employees made their way out for lunch. When the car stopped on the floor where the IT Department was located, a measure of hope rose in Oliver's chest, though the reason escaped him. There was no reason to want to see Felicity so soon. Besides, he'd seen her the night before and last he checked, she wasn't happy with him. His cheek ticked. She was a hundred pounds of brains and sass, which was surprisingly intimidating. His cheek crept upward another inch. Ridiculous, really. Nothing about her was intimidating. She shooed spiders out the door on tissue paper. He shook his head and straightened his expression in the reflection of the elevator walls.

Several seconds later, the final two employees from that floor boarded the car. Felicity. Oliver stepped back, making room for the additional bodies, careful not to draw her attention. After the way she reacted yesterday, she'd probably accuse him of stalking her, despite the fact she got on his elevator. The too tall, too pretty man who followed her into the car looked down at her with excited eyes. Oliver groaned. _Another lunch date, really? _

How tall was that guy? Oliver's respectable six-foot-one frame dwarfed in comparison. He examined the man's posture, looking for signs of insecurity. For some inexplicable reason, very tall men often slumped their shoulders, perhaps to detract from the fact they were giants. Not this guy. This one had squared shoulders and a genuine smile. He probably had a cat at home and helped old ladies cross the street. Felicity would love him. The word love soured in his mind. An internal cringe burned through Oliver's chest. He coughed into his fist, hoping to clear his head. She could have lunch with whomever she chose. He encouraged it. Anyway, Diggle was waiting on him.

"You okay, buddy?" The tall man spoke over a portly woman standing between him and Oliver. "I've got a bottle of water in my bag if you need it."

Oliver shook his head and raised a palm to decline the offer. Too late. Felicity's smile faded. Her eyes widened. She snapped her face forward, removing her attention from Oliver. She didn't want to look too friendly with the boss, he supposed. Why would she? Still, the guise of not knowing one another outside work irritated him. He didn't like pretending not to know her. The dynamic was complicated and unfair. If anyone knew about their friendship, she'd be the one to suffer. If someone linked Oliver to the Hood, they'd inevitable find her, try to harm her. If her co-workers linked her to him, there'd be an office scandal which would only hurt her reputation. If the paparazzi connected them, she'd be bombarded with their flaming idiocy and then he'd be in trouble with her. Well, he corrected himself, there was one scenario where he'd be in danger. He adjusted his tie and looked away. No need to provoke her wrath.

Several awkward moments passed before the elevator doors dinged open, spilling riders onto the white marble floors of the Queen Consolidated lobby and freeing Oliver of the confined space and stale air. A cool breeze swept through the cavernous room as revolving doors delivered crisp fall air into the building. Oliver moved away from the crowd, towards the door to the parking garage, refocused on the task at hand.

Long fingers curled over his shoulder. Oliver pulled in a deep breath and turned. Felicity's elevator companion smiled down at him, a bottle of water in one hand. "Hey, man. I thought you could use this. I think the change in temperature is getting the best of everyone, ya know?"

Oliver looked past the man. Felicity waited near the revolving door, tapping her foot and looking uncomfortable. "Thanks." Oliver accepted the offer with a tight smile.

"I'm Jared Fellows I started in IT today." His pearly white teeth practically had a star shining on them.

Oliver passed the water into his left hand and extended his right. "Oliver Queen."

Jared puzzled a moment. "Aw, man." He looked skyward. "I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you. I got this job online last month after a career fair at school."

Oliver nodded. "Don't worry about it. Which school?"

"Kansas State."

"Nice."

"Well, it's no MIT, but it got me this far." His easy smiled unnerved Oliver. Jared's darkest secret was probably some questionable late night internet viewing. "Hey, I'm not sure what's acceptable here, but I was heading to lunch. I'd love to talk with you about the company. Dynamic companies like yours fascinate me. I stick with computers because people are confusing. Computers are black and white. If they don't do what you expect them to do, you just reprogram." He shifted on his feet. "Also, I never seem to know when I've said too much." He pretended to lock his lips and toss an invisible key over one shoulder.

"Jared?" Felicity called. She clutched her tiny purse against her stomach. "Ready?" Her pinafore dress swung loosely against her thighs, but the fitted material accentuated her curvy waist.

"You know what? Lunch sounds nice." Oliver approached Felicity with Jared on his heels. "I just need to make a quick call. He texted the delay to Diggle without missing a step. "Where to?"

Jared caught up in two mammoth strides. "Excellent. Felicity, this is Oliver Queen. Mr. Queen, this is my new friend and IT mentor, Felicity….I'm so sorry. I can't remember your last name." His cheeks darkened.

Oliver lifted his chin. "Hello, Miss Smoak. Care if I join you for lunch?"

Felicity looked at Jared, unblinking.

Oliver stepped into the revolving door and Jared followed. They stopped outside the door when Felicity dawdled behind. She stood inside the building, her lips moved and her eyes rolled up to view the ceiling.

Jared laughed.

Felicity darted out of the revolving door and wedged her small frame between the men as they walked.

"So, how'd you score a lunch date with Miss Smoak on your first day?" Oliver asked.

Felicity elbowed Oliver. "I invited him. First days are tough."

She'd invited him? Oliver gave the smiling moose another look. He certainly had the homegrown, boy next door look, if that was her thing. Was that her thing? Suddenly Oliver's clothes felt heavier, uncomfortable against his skin.

A crowd formed outside the little Italian deli, which seemed to be where they were heading. Tangy scents of sauce and cheese peppered the air. Images of home baked bread jolted his stomach to life. When did he get so hungry?

Jared shuffled ahead a few steps. "Looks like there's a line. I'll run in and give them my name." He jogged away without another word. Oliver could've secured a table by simply showing up. This kid ran ahead so Felicity wouldn't have to wait a moment longer than necessary. Jeez.

Felicity grabbed Oliver's sleeve. Her lids narrowed over bright blue eyes. "Again? You're joining me for lunch twice in a row? Seriously. What's happening?" She made a show of looking around her. "You can tell me."

"He invited me."

She popped a hip, unimpressed with his answer. "And? You're supposed to meet Dig and set up plans for tonight."

That was true. Oliver checked the time on his phone. "Okay, tell Jared I was called away."

"Yes. Thank you." Her shoulders relaxed. "Hey, can you ask Diggle to call me?"

Oliver's fingers itched at his sides. "Why?"

She squinted up at him. Sunlight illuminated a dash of freckles over her nose. He'd never noticed those before. They were barely visible now. Did she try to cover those with makeup? Why?

Felicity rolled her eyes. "I have a thing to go to Saturday night and I thought he might go with me, or maybe he'd ask Carly to go with me. I don't know. I hate going to these things alone because I'll have to make small talk about the good old days or what I'm up to now, and you know I can't talk about that. Not that helping you out is all I do now. I have a life." She lifted a finger chest high. "Which is evidenced by the thing I need to attend."

Oliver quirked a brow. His lips twitched. "What sort of _thing_?"

Felicity's gaze dropped to the sidewalk. "It's a recognition dinner, put on by a group I joined in college."

Curiosity lifted both brows. He crossed his arms over his chest. "What sort of group?"

She pursed her lips. Her brows knitted together before resolution smoothed her face. "It's a feminist group. College students encouraging teens to break free of barriers and misconceptions. We raise money for scholarships and award them to girls who will be the first in their family to go to college. Alumnus of the group stay active in their communities to encourage young girls to look beyond the moment, pursue their passions. Members on campus try to uplift girls who are having a tough time getting by, have been victimized or have just lost faith in themselves."

Pressure filled Oliver's chest. Did she ever end? There was so much he didn't know about her. "I'd love to come."

She wrinkled her nose. "What? Why?"

He straightened his arms, dusting invisible lint from his sleeves to hide the buzz zipping through him. "My family supports lots of charities. I'm certain my mother and sister would love adding something like this to our list. I can come and check it out, report back. You know how I value good reconnaissance."

Felicity's shiny red lips pulled to one side. She tipped her head, presumably mulling over his explanation. "Fine, but you aren't allowed to ask a bunch of questions about my college years. All my sorority sisters will be there." She exhaled a long stage sigh. "Gather as much information as you want about the group, but not about my time in undergrad. If you want those details, you have to ask me."

"Sorority sisters? Why Miss Smoak, I didn't picture you as the type." Oh, he wouldn't miss this dinner for the world. "Agreed." He extended his hand to seal the deal.

She took his palm gingerly in hers. "Shut up."

Electricity flowed through Oliver's fingers. His gaze jumped to hers. Felicity stared back, wide-eyed.

A shadow fell over them, breaking the spell. "Thirty minutes." Jared shrugged. I negotiated them down from forty-five, but thirty was the best I could do."

Felicity pulled her hand from Oliver's with a start. Her chest rose and fell in quick shallow dips. The blush he loved crawled over her cheeks. The tug in his chest returned. Oliver responded to Jared, though his attention remained fixed on Felicity's secret freckles. "I'm sorry to have to leave, but I've been called away."

With effort, he shifted his focus to Jared. "Thank you for the invitation. Perhaps another time."

Jared smiled wider. "Absolutely."

Oliver gathered his thoughts. What was the proper thing to say? "Enjoy your lunch." He turned back the way they'd come. His pressed his palms together savoring the sting Felicity left behind. In need of one more look at her, he swiveled on his heels. "Oh, and welcome to the team, Jared."

Felicity's lips parted. Before he thought too long about what they might feel like against his, Oliver jogged back across the street to meet Diggle. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he crossed the lobby floor to the garage access door. He'd fallen off the crazy truck this week, interrupting Felicity's lunch plans twice and inviting himself to her event this weekend. Oliver'd never chased a woman before, but it certainly seemed like that was changing. Anyone with sense would warn Felicity away. His reputation as a womanizer was harsh and well earned. Dating a feminist was satisfyingly ironic. Not that they were dating. If anything, he was stalking. That needed to shut down fast.

He shoved the heavy metal door open with unnecessary force and took the stairs to the top of the parking garage. His thoughts churned into a storm of uncertainty. What was his goal? To protect Felicity or to gain her interest – romantically? Nothing good could come from the latter. If he cared for her in any capacity, he'd let this nonsense go. He was lucky to have her friendship and foolish to want more with the stakes so high.

Diggle appeared in the distance, hands pressed over hips. "Finally. Ten more minutes and I was going out for a burger."

Cold reality collapsed over Oliver's shoulders. Fantasies of happily ever after, if that was where his thoughts were headed, were not meant for him. He had a job to do in this city. One that required one hundred percent of his attention. Distractions got people killed.

"You ready for this?" Diggled asked as Oliver closed the space between them.

Oliver gave one stiff nod of confirmation. This was his fate. Purging the city of darkness. His nights would always end with bloodied hands on the throat of an enemy, not wrapped protectively around the waist of someone he'd give his life for.


	4. Chapter 4

_**NOTE: Thank you all so much for your amazing kindness. Your reviews make me smile everyday and you guys have no idea what they mean to me, like you literally can't imagine, so thank you. Really. Truly. Thank you. **_

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The gala was elegant. Oliver had seen it all before, but never with such intense curiosity. This recognition dinner had nothing to do with his family ties or business obligations. No, this dinner had everything to do with Felicity Smoak, a woman he'd only recently realized he knew very little about. Another point of perplexion. It was his duty to know everything about everyone he came into contact with, but in the case of his wide eyed IT girl, he'd simply trusted her first and never bothered to ask questions later.

After a week of wondering, all he'd learned for certain was she seemed to have a different lunch date every day and she supported a charity he'd never heard of before. He needed more information. Who was this girl? Were all her lunch dates with men? Were they potential date-dates? Did she date? Was she just wildly popular at the office? He nodded to himself. That theory seemed reasonable enough. What was not to like? She was smart. Sassy. And she had a little smile that made people let down their guard. Dangerous. He rubbed his forehead. That little smile was dangerous.

Oliver pressed his palm to the exposed skin near the curve of Felicity's back as they maneuvered through the thick crowd inside the lavish venue. Men in ties and women in evening gowns filled every open space. Twinkle lights dangled from the rafters, creating an ethereal effect. The simple touch he placed on her back came naturally. It was a simple gesture to let a lady know he was there. The reaction to this touch, however, was not so simple. His fingertips flexed instinctively. A response to the warmth of her skin, which seemed to have heated under pressure of his touch.

"Miss Smoak!" A young girl wearing a too short, too tight dress and long blue streaked hair ran towards them.

Felicity smiled and opened her arms. "Elise."

Elise wrapped herself around Felicity, nearly toppling to two of them into a champagne fountain. "I got in!"

The pair squealed and turned in circles. Tears streamed over the girl's cheeks. "I'm going to college and my baby girl is going to be proud of her mama. I'm doing things right."

Felicity's eyes glistened. She stroked the girl's long hair. "I never doubted it."

Elise popped a hip and snapped her gum. "Yeah? Well, you're the only one because my mama still says I'm gonna quit before I get started."

Sadness breached Felicity's smile. Just one quick flash and it was gone, covered by a mixture of pride and determination. "Well, it won't be the first time she was wrong about you." She lifted her palm.

Elise slapped her smaller palm against Felicity's. "Right on, Miss S. Hey, Congratulations to you, too!"

The girl darted into the crowd with a wide smile.

Felicity turned on Oliver, limbs trembling. Fury burned in her eyes. "Drink?"

His lips twitched. What just happened? "You're angry."

"Little bit."

Oliver followed her to the nearest waiter and relived him of two champagne flutes. He passed one to Felicity. "This will help."

She tipped her head and emptied the slender glass, then chased her drink with Oliver's. "Better." She smoothed her dress and rolled her shoulders back. Her friendly smile reappeared as she nodded to each passersby.

Oliver touched her back once more, unable to resist the low dip in her floor length satin gown. He'd worn the tie she gave him as a symbol, of what, he wasn't sure. Their friendship? The fact he loved the tie despite the holiday clearance rack she found it on? Symbolism of his nightly occupation or his club, Verdant, perhaps? Whatever the reason, when Felicity opened her apartment door in a matching emerald green gown, he was eternally thankful for listening to his gut. They looked like a couple.

"Elise seemed nice."

Felicity's smile waned. "She's had a hard time like most of the girls I meet these days, but she overcame. She's a fighter. I envy that in a human being. It's so easy to be beaten. To just lay down, give up and be trodden. Defeated. It's sad, but accepting the fate someone else assigns you is the norm these days. Especially in the Glades. Girls growing up in troubled lives think it's their destiny to continue playing the role. They think they're powerless to take a stand against the inevitable. What?"

Her cheeks flamed. She widened her feet to near fighting stance as she spoke, testing the fabric strength of her shimmery gown against her thighs. Oliver stifled a smile. Did she plan to hit him? Why was her every reaction so confusing?

Felicity made a crazy face. "Why are you smiling?"

He didn't realize until she said so, but his cheeks hurt from the pressure. He straightened his tie and forced his features into submission. No more smiling like a little girl. With a straightened face and narrowed eyes, he apologized. "I'm sorry. Please. Go on."

Her brows twitched above her glasses. "Are you teasing me?"

"Of course not. I'm interested. You're passionate about these girls. I had no idea how important this was to you. I belong to plenty of organizations, but none of them get me wound up like this. Tell me more. You said you joined this group as an undergrad?"

She nodded and relaxed her stance. The flush in her cheeks was beautiful, sensual. "I believe anything's possible, and I think anyone can change. Change their path. Change their destiny. Change the world."

Interesting. "Even a teenage mother from the Glades?"

"Especially her."

Oliver nodded. "Me too." He'd wondered earlier why he never felt the need to ask more about who Felicity was beyond her tech skills and glasses. This was why. Unlike him, she wore her true identity on her chest as an emblem of faith or defiance, depending on the onlooker's perspective. "More champagne?"

Her lips curled into the easy smile he loved. Passion fizzled into natural comfort. They were two friends getting to know one another. "Okay. One more."

Oliver secured another pair of champagne flutes and followed Felicity into an elaborately decorated room lined with narrow, linen-covered tables. Unique displays adorned the center of each table. Gift baskets, certificates, jewelry. Each display included a clipboard and pen. Silent auctions were all the rage this year in his mother's circle. They offered the unique opportunity to snare someone else's prize with a higher bid if they dared walk away or take their eyes off it for a second.

Felicity dragged her fingertips over the soft navy table clothes. "I guess I should place a few bids, but I hate silent auctions. I get my heart set on things and then every time I come around to check on my items, I'm outbid. It's a very frustrating process." She glanced over her shoulder at Oliver and sighed. "I don't supposed you get that."

He clasped his hands behind his back in effort to keep them off her as long as possible. "Not really, no."

She vibrated her lips against one another and rolled her eyes. "Figured. Well, anyway, it sucks."

Oliver watched her peruse the displays. Curiosity reared once more. "What would you like to win tonight?"

She pursed her lips. Her eyes swept across the room. "I won't win any of these items. They're all above my pay grade. Not that you don't pay me enough. You do. I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I'm not a disgruntled employee. I swear. I'm happy. A little stressed, but happy. I have to ask. Is this awkward for you? Because this is weird, right? Bringing your boss to a recognition dinner?" She pressed the back of one hand to her forehead. "Is it hot in here? Maybe I need to bid on that bottle of wine. Oh, hey and it comes with a dime. What the heck?" She approached the table with a bottle of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti displayed inside an open picnic basket. Beside the wine sat a jewelry box. A small silver medallion rested against soft black material. "Oh." She touched the medallion with one fingertip, tracing the curved edge. She tipped her head to the side as she gazed at the small raised infinity symbol at it's center. "I've always loved this symbol. The idea that something has no beginning, no end, it simply _is."_

Oliver moved behind her, erasing the space between them until his suit jacket brushed her skin. He swept a length of hair off her shoulder and dipped his chin beside her cheek. "Beautiful," he whispered.

Her skin twinkled with a sheen of makeup on her cheeks and eyelids. Long dark lashes framed her wide blue eyes and curled up to touch her brow. Full red lips glistened in the chandelier lighting, begging to be kissed.

She cleared her throat and turned in the tiny space between Oliver and the table, bracing her palms against the linen cover behind her. "I think the best I can hope for tonight is not to fall on my face or rambled incoherently until they yank me offstage with a big hook. Winning auctions is a worry for another occasion."

Oliver relented his position, caught off guard by her words. Why would she be onstage? He stepped back, feeling the loss of her against him. Felicity's chest rose and fell in deep pulls, as if she'd stopped breathing until he stepped away. Curious.

A woman twice Oliver's age appeared in the nearest doorway wearing enough perfume to permeate the walls. She scanned the room until her gaze landed on Felicity, standing beside Oliver. The woman pressed a clipboard to her chest and waved her free hand overhead. "Miss Smoak?"

Oliver turned his attention back to Felicity. She didn't move and she hadn't seemed to notice the woman calling her name. Instead, her eyes roamed the features of his face, searching for what, he couldn't guess.

"Miss Smoak," the woman called again. She rushed to Felicity's side. "Miss Smoak, you're on in ten."

Felicity nodded and the woman scurried away.

Whatever measure of restraint Oliver had at his disposal, it was turning to vapor by the second. His hand caught her hip and towed her closer in the crowd. It was a reasonable thing to do, so she could hear him in the cacophony of voices. "Did she say you're on in ten? On how?"

A small pink tongue darted out to wet her lips.

A vibration began in Oliver's chest.

"Are you growling?"

He dropped his hand from her hip and waited. There was no good way to answer that question.

She tossed her hair off her shoulders and inhaled. "I guess you'd know soon enough anyway. This is a recognition dinner, and I'm being recognized, which is silly because I'm only one person in a group of twelve hundred dedicated women. It's ridiculous, really, except the committee didn't think so, and I can't say no to anything that brings recognition to teens in need of alternatives, funding for college or proper daycare for their children. We need volunteers in every school in American to educate boys _and_ girls alike on the long term effects of stereotyping and peer shaming. Fat. Skinny. Slutty. Prudish. Dumb. Smart. All those labels ties us down like steel girders and keep us from being who we're meant to be. There's no shame in being who we are, whoever that may be. We need more adults out there making sure kids understand this. We have to make them believe it and teach them to apply it."

A gentle round of clapping drifted over the still room. Shock danced across Felicity's features. Her declaration had grown by the decibel, stopping people in their tracks. Oliver's palms dashed together, louder than the others. Pride filled his chest, though he had no claim to her or her convictions, the simple association of his name with a woman like this was more than he deserved. _Bravo, Felicity_. _Bravo._

The blush in her cheeks paled as she looked around the crowded room. "I think I need some fresh air." She finished the champagne and left the flute behind.

* * *

On the patio, temperatures had dipped significantly since their arrival. Oliver slid his jacket over Felicity's shoulders. "So, this dinner is for you. At what point were you planning to share that little detail?"

Her head turned left and right before he'd finished speaking. "No. Not for me. I'm just the spokeswoman." Her hands flitted in the air. "Of all the people in the city, they picked the girl who can't shut up to give a short pre-dinner speech. Well, the joke's on them. I start talking and I can't stop. Who knows what I'll say up there. Why'd you wear that tie?"

Oliver blinked. Her fingers caressed the smooth satin material against his chest, quickening his heartbeats. "I don't know." It was true. He couldn't lie to her and he couldn't explain what he didn't understand.

She bit into her bottom lip. "It wasn't on a St. Patrick's Day clearance bin like I said. I just wanted to provoke you."

Oliver's eyebrows lifted. "What?" His fingers curled around hers.

Her narrow shoulders lifted and dropped. "I made that up about it costing two dollars."

He squeezed her fingers. "You made it up. To provoke me?"

"Yeah."

He gazed at her through heavy hooded eyes. "And you think it's wise to provoke me?" His feet inched forward, bumping the toes of her silver heels.

She blushed, looking simultaneously ornery and unbelievable sexy. "No. Not wise, but sometimes it's a little… entertaining. You know because you're usually so surly and gruff with your all-business face and no nonsense attitude."

Oliver tore his gaze from her mouth. She'd teased him for fun. What did that mean? The city around them held its collective breath as he contemplated his next move. Whatever happened would affect the friendship they'd spent a year cultivating. The battle of heart and head commenced, aching its way his throat and chest. His thoughts whirled and surged like thunderous clouds of a storm powerful enough to sink an island. Cool air whipped long blond hair into his burning face, dashing his over-heightened senses with scents he'd come to associate with Felicity months ago, vanilla, coconut and something else, something exotic. He turned his palm against hers, intertwining their fingers, pulling her nearer. "Why would you intentionally taunt me?" His words clawed their way out, arriving in a gravelly voice he hadn't expected.

Her eyes widened as he spoke. Her sharp intake of breath sent fire through his limbs. Desire overcame him in new and deeply unwise waves. There was far too much at stake to take this chance, make this move, dare this kiss.

Felicity's eyes closed. "Oliver."

He groaned. His name on her lips was... enticing.

"I think I've had too much champagne because I'm thinking things that don't make any sense and I'm far too logical to have silly thoughts like these. I know that sounds completely crazy, so I'm going to keep blaming the wine, disentangle myself from you and go give a very heated speech in the hopes of releasing as much of this pent up…" she let out a low whistle… "whoa, as possible because, well, yeah, just wow. Okay. I'm going to open my eyes now and you're going to forget I did that." She motioned to his chest.

Oliver looked at his shirt and tie. Nothing seemed amiss to him. "Okay."

She turned back to face the doors without opening her eyes.

"Felicity."

She raised a finger into the air beside her head, making no effort to turn her eyes on him. "We're sitting at table three. I'll be there in about twenty minutes. Please order me a pot of coffee. I need to sober up."

Applause split the evening air as the heavy glass door sucked open and swallowed her whole. Beyond the glass, she strode confidently into the dining room. The absence of her against his chest sent ice over his skin. In the distance, she slipped out of his jacket and folded it over a chair near the podium. Lights shined around her, illuminating her like an angel and her lips moved over the microphone.

A few heartbeats later, Oliver's feet carried him on autopilot into the room, pulled along by the power of her wake. He ordered her coffee and stared into her impassioned eyes as she lavished emotion on the name of every girl whose life she'd changed, demanded an end to violence against women and a beginning to a world where women uplifted one another in the name of unity.

When she finished, Oliver was on his feet again leading an ovation. Pride expanded his chest to capacity. Whatever their relationship might be, and as complicated as it had begun to feel for him, he was certain of one thing. Felicity was a part of him now, in ways no one else had ever been. She saw through his pretenses, challenged his beliefs and dared him to see there was plenty of work to be done in the daylight as well as the night.

Tomorrow, this charity would receive the donation of a lifetime.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Again. I can't thank you guys enough for your support and encouragement on this story. I love that I've found my fellow Olicity shippers and I can swoon and rant and cry with you. Who knew how many hours I could lose reading all your amazing love stories! Ah! I'm so glad to have found this amazing fandom in this wonderful place! I hope this chapter will make someone smile.**_

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Oliver stormed into the lair with a curse. His hood fell back as he unzipped the green jacket and dropped it to the floor.

Felicity rose without speaking. He felt her eyes on him as he took his frustrations straight to the two hundred pound punching bag hanging nearby.

Heavy footfalls preceded Diggle's voice a moment later. "I'm calling it a night. You know how to reach me if anything comes up."

Felicity echoed his statement with a whisper. "What's wrong? Did he get away?"

Oliver spun on heavy feet. He tightened the glove over each hand and glared. "No. The criminal didn't get away. We left without speaking to him."

Diggle took a step forward, setting Felicity behind him. "All our intelligence said this guy went home at nine o'clock every night and stayed there. We have records from his landline, his security company and visual reconnaissance. We had no way to anticipate he'd spend the evening surrounded by fifty people celebrating an old man's eightieth birthday."

"Oh, wow." Felicity's voice carried around Diggle. She sidestepped him. "I'm sorry. I should've checked for something like this. Anomalies happen. They happen so often, it's kind of strange we still call them anomalies."

Diggle turned his back to Oliver and rested one large hand on Felicity's shoulder. "Hey, it's not the end of the world. We can fight another day. It's not as if that guy's leaving the country tomorrow."

A long pause stretched through the room.

"Well," Felicity stated. She didn't expound.

Oliver's pulse raced with adrenaline, frustration and lost opportunity. "Well what? What does that mean? He _is_ leaving the country tomorrow? Are you kidding me?"

Felicity focused on Diggle, looking up at him from the near foot of height between them. "I'm not sure. I saw a memo come through his email about an hour ago that looked like flight reservations. I didn't flag it or pursue it. I didn't think he'd ever see the email let alone take the flight. I assumed he'd meet the vigilante and them probably the cops."

Oliver pulled off his gloves and grumbled a line of swears.

Diggle gave Oliver a long look. "Like I said. We can fight another day. Right now, I'm heading home. You should, too." He clapped Felicity on the back and climbed the stairs to the exit.

Oliver wiped sweat from his brow and went back to the punching bag bare fisted. He enjoyed the sharp sting of leather against his knuckles. The impact traveled through his muscles, toning them with each fresh impact.

Felicity's heels clicked over the concrete floor, drawing nearer to Oliver. Her voice was soft and sweet. "I should've gotten into his calendar to make sure nothing came up last minute."

Oliver groaned, torn. It wasn't her fault. It was no one's fault, which made the whole thing all the more infuriating. What were the odds the guy he'd followed for days would change his pattern on the night Oliver went after him? Sometimes it seems fate worked against him.

She stopped too close for him to ignore her. Her damnable coconut body lotion scrambled his anger, repurposing the excess energy for uses he couldn't think about at the moment.

"This is only one night. You're only one guy. You might be built like a freaking army, but you're _one_ man. You missed your mark tonight, but you still make a difference in this city, even without threatening the bad guys."

He lifted an eyebrow. A puff of air blew over his lips. Hadn't he thought the same thing during her recognition dinner Saturday night? That he could make a difference? That anything was possible? She made him dream of the impossible, like a day when his list was completed and he could go home at night to something of substance, someone warm and soft instead of the brittle yellow pages of his tattered notebook.

Felicity's small hand pressed against his forearm. "I'm serious about this. This weekend you made a very impressive donation to my charity. You impacted hundreds of teens with your generosity, Oliver."

He looked into her eyes, remembering the passion she'd shown in her speech. How proud he was to be there with her. Her enthusiasm was contagious. She'd moved him to action. During her ovation, he felt certain a room full of people really could make a difference, maybe even change futures.

Her warm fingers pressed into his skin. "Hey. I mean it. You do good things during the daylight, too. I know you don't see them, but I do. Others do. You're not your father."

He dropped his arm, breaking contact with her. The words stung. She had no idea what she was saying.

"You'll get this guy when he gets back from his trip. Bad guys do bad things. He won't be gone long and you can corner him, give him an ultimatum or tie him up for the police later."

His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Oliver turned his face away. Anger boiled inside him for the wrong doings in his city, the innocent deaths, the crime, all for power hungry criminals exactly like his father. "I should've taken him out at the party when I had a clear shot." The words escaped in a growl before he had a chance to consider the audience.

Felicity's jaw dropped. "You are not a killer."

His eyes snapped back to hers. His feet pulled him closer. "For a genius, you keep getting that wrong."

Felicity swallowed long and slow. Her chest rose and fell in stuttered breaths. He'd frightened her. Guilt coiled in his gut, sickening him. God, he was a monster. His head itched to fall forward. He wanted to beg her forgiveness. This wasn't who he wanted to be. It was who he had to be. The decision was made. This was his job to complete. No one else's. He had to see it through. Pride forced his chin an inch higher. His head wouldn't dip. He'd endued far too much to let one hopeful blond change his trajectory.

Her limbs vibrated until he thought she'd cry. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. The scent of her skin seemed to envelope him as she moved closer. One thin arm snapped out and curled fingers bounced off his chest. Did she hit him? He examined the skin where the impact occurred. Scarred and puckered with unthinkable memories, there seemed to be a new pink dot about the size of her fist on one pectoral. Chin down, he raised his eyes to hers.

"That's right. I hit you. You're being awful and you need to stop. So, just, cut it out." Her voice cracked and warbled. Small fingers dashed tears from her cheeks.

His brow crumbled in confusion. "Are you mad?"

"Yes, I'm mad. What do you think? You think I go around hitting people when I'm happy?"

His fingers met hers against one cheek. "But you're crying." He brushed away the tear. It warmed and dampened his fingertips.

"Ugh. I can't help that. It happens when I get flustered and I want to hit something." She sniffled and a laugh popped out. "Normally, I can't hit anything. I have to sit there and deal with all the feelings so I don't break something. You, I don't worry about. It's not like I can do any damage to that without a crowbar." Her hands moved aimlessly between them. "I've seen you do a hundred chin ups on the ceiling. You hang from the freaking rafters for crying out loud."

The corners of Oliver's eyes crinkled in humor a measure of anger rolled away. He kept his words level, used his most careful voice. Who knew which emotion might surface next? "You've counted my chin ups?"

She adjusted her glasses and tucked hair behind both ears. "Well. I mean. Yeah. I guess. Sometimes. Or once. Only the one time." She cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her chest. "You take off your clothes and hit stuff. How's a girl not supposed to notice that? I meant your shirt, not your clothes. You don't, you know, get nake…" She blew out along breath and marched back to her computer.

Oliver followed. "You didn't just notice. You counted. Over a hundred chin-ups. That's a lot."

She lifted her palms skyward. "Exactly."

His lips twitched.

She rolled in her chair. A tiny smile curled her lips. "I'm sorry I hit you."

"You're picking up bad habits around here, Smoak. Better watch yourself."

Felicity pinched a small silver medallion between her thumb and first finger, dragging it left and right along a silver necklace laying against her collarbone. "I found this on my desk when I got to work this morning. Know anything about how it got there?"

Fluorescent lighting danced off the little charm. He'd never given the symbol for infinity much though. It was used in mathematics, after all, not something he spent time contemplating, but Felicity called it her favorite symbol. She said it represented something with no beginning or end, something that simple always was. He didn't remember her words exactly, but the feeling was still there, looming, tugging on his heart as the remnants of his night's frustration fell away.

His gaze fell to her lips. A bad habit he's picked up spending time with her. "You said you liked it. I thought you should have it."

She slid her lips over shiny red gloss, ready to tell him the gift was too much, or to pose some other pointless argument, he assumed. Whatever the plan, he wouldn't accept her returning the charm. It belong right where it was.

Her hand stopped. She pressed the medallion to her chest. "Thank you."

Oliver leaned a hip against her desk, inching closer. "Thank you?"

Confusion crunched her face. "What did you think I'd say? I love the token but you stink."

He hoped she meant stink figuratively. He had wailed on the punching bag long enough to work up a sweat. "I expected an argument."

"Why would I argue with you?"

He shook his head in faux disappointment. "Sometimes I get the feeling you like arguing with me."

She squinted up at him from her seat. "I do not."

"See?"

"Stop it." Her smile soothed his nerves, settled his thoughts, calmed his broken heart. Diggle was right. There was always another day. Tonight, he had the undivided attention of a beautiful woman who, despite all his grotesque incompetency in every area that should count when dating, seemed to enjoy his company. Not that they were dating. But still. He wouldn't ignore his good fortune.

Oliver lowered his voice and locked his interrogation face on her. "What'd you do with the wine that came with that auction package?"

Felicity grabbed her bag from the floor and anchored it across her body. She was on her feet in seconds. "Well, if you want that back, you'll have to take me home."

Amusement rumbled in his chest, though he stifled the laugh. If only she meant it the way it sounded.

Felicity stopped in her tracks. "You know what I meant by that, right? Not, take me home-take me home, like," she pressed the back of one hand to her head, and used a breathless voice he rather enjoyed.

"Bummer."

She smirked and headed for the steps. "Yeah, keep taunting me, Mr. Queen. You never know when I might hit you again."

Oliver waited a few seconds to admire the view as she ascended the stairs. His night had done a complete one-eighty. He shook his head, unsure what to make of his thoughts.

"I'll take my chances."


	6. Chapter 6

Felicity's apartment was warm and inviting. The mix of colors and patterns were uniquely hers, as diverse and complicated as a little techie in glasses who'd punch a killer out of sheer frustration. Of course, no matter how many times he'd corrected her, she still argued the part where he reminded her he was a killer.

Stubborn.

"What?" Felicity kicked her heels off beside the door and latched the deadbolt. "Did you call me stubborn?"

Oliver shook his head in denial. With any luck, his careful expression revealed nothing, especially the heat of embarrassment rising up his neck. He wasn't himself where this woman was concerned. All the more reason to make an excuse and leave.

In a few minutes.

Felicity stretched onto tip toes, attempting to reach a pair of wine glasses on top of her refrigerator. One palm braced on the counter, she wiggled the fingers of her free hand overhead. "Come on," she muttered. "I wasn't any taller when I put you up there than I am now, so get down here." Her blouse came untucked, revealing a band of pale skin at her waist and lighting a fire in Oliver.

"Let me help." Oliver placed an open palm against her side as he slid into the small space between Felicity and the countertop. Her tummy sucked flat under the influence of his hand. His thumb drifted over goose bumps on the exposed skin at her waist, and a shiver racked her body.

She yanked her blouse into place and turned to face him. A curious look in her eye.

He raised a hand to retrieve the glasses. "I think you probably had your shoes on when you put these up here." He nodded to the mass of heels gathered at her door.

Her lips parted. Gas blue nails slid over the buttons of his shirt as she regained her balance.

A familiar rumble began in his chest. The sensation churned inside him whenever she was this near. He didn't make the connection right away, but he was learning. She did this to him. The rumble was primal and strong. It made him want to shield her from every bad thing on the planet besides himself and ravish as often as possible.

Complicated. Confusing. No wonder he growled.

A deep blush bled across her cheeks. He was staring. "This isn't what it looks like," she said. She dropped her hands from his chest and squeezed the bottle of red wine between them. "I didn't invite you over here to feel you up."

He smiled. "No? Because usually when a lady invites a man up for a drink…"

Felicity relaxed. She lifted a finger. "Do not finish that sentence."

"Why?" He set the glasses on the counter and stuffed his fingers into his pockets before he touched her again.

"Because I know what you're thinking, and joking or not, that's the most sexist, presumptuous thing I've ever heard."

He stepped aside for Felicity to pour the wine. "You can't know what I'm thinking."

A tremor coursed through her fingers as she set the bottle on the counter near the glasses. She hid the trembling well, pressing palms to her hips instead of pouring the wine, but he'd already taken notice. Oliver took a small step back, more for the gesture of giving her space than to actually move too far from her side. Time alone with Felicity was too valuable to squander standing across the room. She tucked hair behind her ears and puffed air into her bangs.

Could he be the cause of her nervous tic this time? One way to find out.

"Do I make you nervous?"

She barked a short laugh as if his question was ridiculous.

That wasn't an answer. He waited.

She tipped her head forward and groaned. "You have no idea." The blush returned, satisfying him tremendously. The fact he affected her at all was enticing.

A smile pulled his cheeks high and lifted his heart in the process. When her eyes found his, he'd relaxed the grin to something he hoped was more masculine, and less like Thea watching Vampire Diaries. "I don't suppose you'd care to expound on your statement?"

"Nope." She wiped her hands roughly against her skirt and poured the wine. Her gaze darted to his face a few times without finding purchase. Oliver, on the other hand, couldn't take his eyes off her. When she finished pouring, her fingers played with the charm on her necklace. "Well, I think I need to sit down." She handed him a glass and moved to her couch. "Music of television?"

"Lady's choice."

She pursed her lips. "How about background music and conversation."

He lifted a skeptical brow. If this was anyone but Felicity, he'd assume she didn't mean actual conversation. His mind quickly unfurled the possibility of one day having that sort of relationship with her. He'd assume that was impossible if she didn't keep insisting all things were possible.

Felicity whistled. "Wow. You really aren't yourself tonight. You haven't been for a few days. Did you hear my questions? You know what? Never mind. You have secrets. I need information. Do you want to tell me what's really going on this week? I can take it. I'm tougher than I look. I swear. Were you injected with something that's killing you slowly? I can probably help you find an antidote."

Oliver lowered his body onto the cushion beside her and rested his arm across the back of the couch. "I'm not dying."

She shifted in her seat, folding her legs onto the couch beside her. Her head tipped side to side. "Wait. Am I dying?"

"Yes."

She gasped, wide-eyed.

Oliver chuckled. "I'm kidding. No one's dying. Nothing's different. You're mistaken."

"Ha." She spoke the word, not bothering to pretend he was funny. "No. Something's up. I'll find out."

"You keep saying that." He sipped his wine and savored the moment. Warm earthy aromas from the wine tangled in the air with vanilla, coconut and… "My turn for a question."

"Be my guest."

"There's a kind of floral scent in here. Is it a candle? You smell that way sometimes, but I name the fragrance and it's making me crazy. What's it called?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Coconut? Surely you have a name for vanilla."

"No. I recognize those. It's something else. " Oliver stood and walked the room's perimeter "Okay, it's killing me. Is there a plant here somewhere I can't see?"

Felicity threw her hands into the air. "Oh. I think I know. Hang on." She dashed out of the room.

_Pull it together, Queen._ When men and women spent this much time together, it was natural to develop an attraction. If he ignored the feeling, it would pass away. No more inviting himself over at night for wine. It was selfish and dangerous, not to mention stupid. His thoughts carouselled. Another reason not to be romantically involved while fighting crime: People you love die. Bad guys find them and snap their necks.

Oliver turned to the door. He needed to break his Felicity habit.

Felicity reappeared in the hallway with a smile. "Did you notice the smell at dinner Saturday night?"

He nodded sharply. He'd leave in five more minutes. "Yes."

"Close your eyes."

His lids dropped on command. Dangerous. Stupid. He couldn't go around closing his eyes. Bad things happened when he wasn't looking. The rich floral scent registered a moment later, crashing powerful vivid memories from their date over his head like cinderblocks. He'd nearly kissed her that night. He'd wrapped her in his jacket and moved in for the kiss, but she ran away assuming she'd somehow done something wrong. She told him she was drinking and thinking silly things. She'd misunderstood his intent. It was him. It wasn't her. The scent persisted, and his mouth watered.

"Is this it?"

He opened his eyes. Felicity twisted her wrists in the air. Her smile was crooked. If he had to interpret the look, he's call it one part curious, two parts mischievous.

"Yes." That was most definitely the scent.

She beamed. "It's gardenia. I picked up a body spray at the holistic shop beside the bookstore. You like it?"

"Yes."

"Hmm."

His lips quivered, biting back words he shouldn't say. "What?"

She shook her head and pursed her full red lips. "Nothing."

"Something."

Her smile fell. Oliver braced his heart for what she might say next. She lifted a narrow shoulder and let it fall. "No. It's nothing. I just like when you smile and you don't do that enough. That's all I was thinking. I don't mean the fake tabloid smile you use at work or at the club when you're playing Oliver Queen Business Mogul. I mean the real smile. When you smile like that, I think you can conquer the world." Her gaze dropped to his lips and the familiar blush crept over her skin.

Oliver stepped into her personal space and took her hand in his. "Hey." He tugged her wrist until she lifted her eyes to his.

Felicity bit her lip. "Sorry. I get carried away."

His heart thundered, demanding he reconsider his next move. "I like it when you get carried away. It's intoxicating." The smile dripped from his mouth as his thoughts moved into dangerous territory. Physical contact broke carefully placed barriers.

Oliver pulled in another deep breath, reveling in the feel of her warm hand in his. Felicity thought he could conquer the world.

She moistened her lips, and her gaze drifted from his face to their joined hands. When her eyes returned to his, there were new questions there. She was a genius after all. He couldn't hide his thoughts from her forever, but he could keep the whole of them to himself a little while longer if he tried.

"Oliver?" His name was a whisper on her lips. Recognition dawned in her eyes, though she'd never admit it, never believe it without hearing him utter the words. Confusion puckered her brow. Then again, she might also hit him.

If he wanted to kiss her, this was the moment to try. The gloss of her lips called to him, dared him to taste, but he had something else in mind.

The rumble in his chest returned. Oliver lifted her hand to his shoulder and curled her fingers around his neck. He planted the toes of his shoes on either side of her bare feet. Words were hard, but maybe he could show her with touch how important she was to him. He could thank her without words for how she changed him.

Oliver rolled his shoulders forward and pulled her against him, bringing their bodies together as naturally as if they'd done this a thousand times. He explained with an embrace the thing he couldn't yet say. He needed her. He leaned his cheek against her head, and to his grand delight, she squeezed him back. No one ever claimed romantic feelings were logical, but he was surprised nonetheless to discover how completely illogical they were. He somehow felt more powerful wrapped in the arms of this small woman than he did on any dark rooftop armed with his bow.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Felicity adjusted her cheek against his chest and sighed. "Always."


	7. Chapter 7

Diggle slid the tabloid across the table to Oliver. The gentle clang of silverware and murmur of voices seemed to stop as Oliver lifted the paper for a closer inspection. The small Italian bistro they'd chosen for lunch was far enough from Queen Consolidated to avoid most employees, and close enough to get back in case of emergency. The way the media persecuted him these days, he anticipated corporate mutiny at any moment. Luckily, the employees in his building seemed immune to the seething media coverage. Oliver did his best to show their work mattered. That they mattered. So far, so good.

Diggle smiled around the edge of his glass. "Looks like you had a nice time Saturday."

"I did."

The article covered Felicity's recognition dinner, sparing few words for her cause and wasting too many on his presence at the event.

Oliver tracked a bead of condensation down the glass of ice water before him. The article's focus should have been on the charity, the cause, or the spokeswoman, not on him. He'd inadvertently stolen Felicity's thunder, and dragged her into the tabloids. The photograph was worse. "Has Felicity seen this yet?"

"Probably. She sees everything before us, remember?"

Oliver slid the cell from inside his jacket pocket. "I should give her a call and ask." He passed Diggle a cursory glance and tapped on his screen.

He scanned the photo once more and his chest tightened. The shot of he and Felicity revealed far more than he dared to share. Looking into the matte black and white picture stole his nerve, and he shoved the phone back into his jacket. Maybe they never needed to talk about this picture. Ever. He didn't even remember the couple standing with them in the shot. Felicity faced the pair at Oliver's side. A wide smile graced her face. Their eyes were tuned to hers, making it a very congenial photograph… but then, there was Oliver standing protectively at her side, closer than a boss should stand to his employee. His rapt attention on her face needed no explanation. The text beneath them could've read, "Oliver Queen is deeply attached to this woman in very complex ways." To his advantage, the photographer had captured them in a rare moment when he'd managed to keep his hands to himself. One set of fingers stuffed into his pocket, the other wrapped around a glass of champagne. Still, there was no denying that face, his too wide smile, or the satisfied look in his eyes. Oliver lifted his eyes to Diggle who watched him from across the crimson tablecloth.

A long shadow covered the paper in Oliver's hands. "Mr. Queen." An enthusiastic Jared stood at the end of their table smiling. "Room for two more?"

Oliver released a choking sound.

Diggled intervened. "Of course. Please, join us." He snagged the paper from Oliver's stunned hand and shoved it behind the drink menu.

Felicity pursed her lips, chin tilted skyward, eyes closed.

Jared took her coat. "I'll let you sit beside the boss."

Her eyes popped open.

The men stood, waiting for Felicity to take her seat. A moment later, she dropped into the chair and stared at Diggle.

Oliver cleared his throat, but his head was too crammed with observations to field his words. "Two lunches with Miss Smoak in less than a week on the job. You're doing okay for yourself, huh, Jared."

Felicity's head turned slowly in Oliver's direction. Her lips parted. Her eyes stayed on Diggle until the angle of her chin forced them away. She lifted her eyebrows at Oliver in an unspoken "what the hell?"

Oliver smiled, impossible not to with her so near, looking so shocked and adorable. The word slowed his thoughts a bit. He dipped his chin. She really was adorable. He'd thought of her as a genius since the day they'd met. That was her first attribute. Soon after, he added witty and entertaining to brainiac, which became synonymous with her face in his mind. As they spent more time together, he learned she was many other things, like stubborn and passionate. She was sexy in an unapologetic way, as if she didn't realize the effect she had. He envied the confidence she wore plainly in her smile. She simply was who she was and whoever didn't like it was welcomed to keep walking. He snickered and shook his head. How all those things equated to adorable was a sign of what she did to his brain. Scrambled.

"Why are you laughing?" Her voice cracked his reverie. Diggle and Jared looked at Oliver as if he'd lost his mind.

Oliver straightened his posture. "Nothing. Something funny Diggle said earlier."

All eyes turned to Diggle and Oliver lifted his shoulders.

"I'm a funny guy," Diggle assured Jared, who laughed politely on cue.

Felicity crossed her legs beneath the table and kicked Oliver's shins. "Oops."

Oliver suppressed his humor before he earned a bruise from those heels. "This place is a bit of a hike from the office, Jared. Hasn't Felicity shown you the restaurants outside Queen Consolidated?"

Felicity groaned softly. Oliver's lip curled at the sound.

Jared leaned his elbows on the table, conspiratorially. "I wanted to take her someplace special before you steal her away from me."

Oliver's gaze darted to Felicity. A sudden charge of electricity between them lifted the hair on his arms and neck.

Diggle's voice nearly made him jump. "Well, Oliver knows quality when he sees it. He's needed an assistant for some time. I'm sure he's relieved Miss Smoak agreed to the new position."

Ah. Yes. That. Oliver shook his head, dashing the thought from his mind. She wasn't his to steal and as far as her new position at Queen Consolidated…Felicity hadn't been as easily removed from the IT department as he'd expected. Relocating someone from their five foot cubicle to an executive office had never been so frustrating. While he'd thought the guise was brilliant and perfectly timed with him freshly at the helm. Felicity behaved as if she'd been demoted, or asked to pick up his dry cleaning.

Jared reached his inhumanly long arm across the table, stopping inches short of Felicity's napkin. He winked and spoke in a stage whisper. "Maybe I can still pick you up from your fancy new office and take you out sometime, or you can come back and slum it in IT any day. I hear there's no end to the cold pizza and coffee."

Felicity smiled.

Oliver frowned. His fingers itched to shove Jared's hand back onto his side of the table.

Diggle stuck his nose back inside his cup, poorly hiding what looked like a smirk.

A waitress appeared with two fresh water glasses and place settings for their guests. "Everyone ready to order?"

Felicity ordered the fruit plate. The waitress looked to Oliver next.

"You only want fruit?" Oliver asked.

Pink crept over Felicity's cheeks. "Yes."

His nose wrinkled instinctively. She had the appetite of a hungry man. Where she put the calories, he had no idea. Could she be dieting? He begged Thea to eat daily. Felicity was perfect. Why would she diet? She cleared her throat and he realized his gaze had slid over her figure. The waitress cocked an eyebrow at him. He lifted a finger. "Can I have a minute? They should order." He motioned to Diggle and Jared, still looking amused from across the booth.

"What are you doing?" Felicity whispered as the waitress took the other men's orders.

"Are you feeling okay?" It didn't make sense for her to diet. His gaze moved to Jared, making back home humor with the waitress. Something about dairy cows or dainty crows. "Why aren't you eating?"

Her little fingers curled into fists on her lap. She twisted the life from her napkin. "I am eating. I ordered fruit. A normal, healthy, non-interrogation-requiring option."

He leaned away from her to examine her expression. "Are you nervous?"

Silence filled the space around them. The waitress was back to Oliver.

Felicity twisted her back to him, giving the waitress her full attention. "He'll have the BLT on wheat, no mayo and a house salad, vinaigrette on the side. Thank you."

Jared's boisterous laugh shocked Oliver back to reality. "Wow. Look at theta Mr. Queen. Looks like you picked the right woman for the job."

He had no doubt.

Diggle passed the menus forward. The forgotten tabloid toppled from behind the drink menu.

Felicity's hand flashed forward, knocking into Oliver's. Their fingers brushed, and Oliver's grip tightened, over the crumpled paper. Felicity's breathing hitched beside him.

"Is that you?" Jared snagged the paper from their hands and whistled. "Man. You look like movie star in that dress, but then again I never doubted you."

Oliver pressed his palms together beneath the table. He angled his chin toward Felicity and lowered his voice. "Have you? Did you see…read?" He cleared his throat and released a slew of internal curses. He opened his mouth to try again and she interrupted.

"Yes." One breathless word.

Jared dropped the paper on the table again. "That's amazing Felicity. You never stop impressing me. Nice work with that charity. This says you raised over half a million dollars that night." He crossed his arms and smiled at her. Pride inched over his face.

Oliver's mouth pulled down on each side. A primal urge to stake his claim jolted through him, followed quickly by rebuke. She wasn't his to claim. Felicity had her own mind and when she was ready to fill him in on her thoughts about their complicated relationship status, he'd listen. Meanwhile making a move on someone who worked for him by day and protected his alter by night, was inexcusable. He closed his eyes for one long beat. Anyway, staking claim on a feminist was the outright dumbest idea to rock through his cluttered head all week.

A more promising thought lifted through the fog. Maybe he didn't have to make a move. Maybe he could plant seeds and let them grow. Given enough time to get to know him and a bit of encouragement, maybe Felicity would come to him if her feelings ever matched his. Then, he wouldn't be a creepy boss. He wouldn't put her in the awkward position of knowing he cared for her differently than she cared for him, and he could avoid a sexual harassment suit. That was a big bonus from a corporate perspective, though comical from his perspective in reality. Felicity would sooner nail him with that custom bow she had made for him and be done than sue him. The plan took shape in his mind. He'd set up the stage and see how it played out, leaving Felicity in complete control. No pressure. No expectations. She'd determine what came next. The power was hers.

Assuming he could keep his hands off her. Unlikely, but worth a shot.

Felicity lifted the tabloid in one hand and stared at the photo. Oliver's heart heaved. The pages tittered under a slight tremble in her fingertips. Her eyelids dropped slightly and her chin turned toward him. Cheeks pink, her eyes darkened with something unspoken.

Oliver's gut twisted. What did it mean? What did she see when she looked at the photograph?

Her small hand slid from her lap beneath the table and onto his leg beside hers. A quick increase in pressure under her fingertips sent shockwaves through him. Felicity blinked long and slow, then replaced her hand, folding her fingers into her lap, leaving a patch of fire on the skin beneath his pant leg where her hand had been. The moment had come and gone in the space of a heartbeat, completely unnoticed by anyone else in the world, but that moment etched deep into Oliver's damaged heart. Her tiny squeeze sewed tendrils of hope and endless _what ifs _into the fabric of his soul.

The corner of her mouth tilted as she sipped her water. A hidden smile meant only for him. Perhaps touch was their new form of communication. He swallowed as the thought settled in his mind. The reassuring grip meant something to Felicity, and he intended to find out precisely what.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Okay. I'm new, so I'm not sure what's appropriate for thanking those of you who've left reviews. I don't want to PM everyone and look like a weirdy if that's not cool. Like some stalky writer chic. But I'm tempted anyway. I definitely want to thank everyone for the follows and favorites and of course the reviews. Your enthusiasm makes me want to write about these two even more, which I cant believe is possible. Anyway. I ramble. Thank you times a zillion and I hope you'll keep the feedback coming. Also, if you write Olicity, zomg KEEP WRITING. I'm losing hours of my day reading all the wonderful awesome you create. I love it. I want it. Keep it coming!**_

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Boxes lined the glass wall between Oliver's executive office and Felicity's new one. While having her near was convenient, it was also incredibly distracting. By one o'clock she'd already had visits from three separate male co-workers and a trio of ladies. The guests came every half hour beginning at eleven. Oliver could only assume they were lunch invitations. Her eyes had lifted to his with each new offer and she caught him watching every time. Still, the guests had each left with a smile. Hope for tomorrow, probably.

Oliver's eyes trailed the next guest into her office. Jared. Oliver's jaw clenched. As much as Oliver wanted to dislike the guy vying for Felicity's attention more successfully than the others, he couldn't. Jared was a nice guy. The poster boy for every mother's dream come true. And tall. Oliver rubbed his forehead. He heard ladies talking in the halls. They liked Jared's easy smile and old-fashioned manners. Actions Oliver forced as part of his guise came easily, naturally to Jared. How could he compete with that? If he were competing, which he wasn't. _She's not a trophy._

Oliver dragged open his desk drawer and grabbed his cell phone. He tapped in an order for lunch and squared his bunched shoulders, aching with tension.

Through the glass, Jared perched on Felicity's desk, juggling office supplies and from the looks of it, telling some kind of story. Felicity listened intently, leaning toward him on her elbows. Jared caught the items and shoved his hands into the air, victorious. Felicity's head tipped back and a long hard laugh erupted, piercing the glass between them.

Oliver shut his eyes and counted to ten. When he reopened them, she was clapping.

_That's it. _

"Miss Smoak." Oliver jammed his finger against the intercom button on his phone.

Her eyes snapped to his. The smile fell from her face, half tempting him to request she bring him coffee just to see the fire in her again. She was too stubborn to see her new office as a gift of appreciation. She kept calling herself his secretary. Ridiculous.

A tight smile formed on her lips. She lifted one finger into the air and pressed the button on her phone with purpose, as if she could inflict the pinch on Oliver if she concentrated. "Mr. Queen."

Oliver stifled a smile. He deepened his voice. "I'd like to see you in my office."

Jared turned his back to the glass, hiding his face from Oliver. A moment later Felicity laughed and covered her mouth with both hands. She nodded and waved goodbye as Jared ducked out. He waved feebly at Oliver as he strode past the door on giraffe legs. Oliver's eyes followed him until he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

"Yes." Felicity appeared at his desk.

Oliver looked at her empty office and back to her face. "You're stealthy for a woman in heels."

She stared, unblinking, pen poised over a notebook. "What can I do for you, Mr. Queen?" Her eyes darted to the glass wall, separating them from the other employees.

"I noticed you haven't eaten."

"What?"

"Well, it's after one and you haven't left your desk all morning. Aren't you hungry?"

She looked over her shoulder. "Um."

Oliver moved across the room to open his door for a man carrying take out bags. "Here." Oliver extended a set of folded bills to the man and accepted the bags in exchange. "Keep the change. Thank you for your haste."

He strode back to his desk and unpacked the bags.

Felicity inhaled deeply, a tiny moan seasoned the sound. "Is that your lunch?"

"Mmhmm." Oliver settled into his chair and twisted the lid free on a bottle of water. "There's plenty for two, if you're hungry." He raised his eyebrows.

"I have a lot to do. I still haven't unpacked everything I hauled up here from my old office." Emphasis clung to the word "old." She still hadn't forgiven him for moving her into a fishbowl.

The glass walls were unfortunate where privacy was concerned, though they muted sound better than expected. On the other hand, Oliver wouldn't be surprised by an uninvited guest either.

Felicity dithered, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Oliver lifted the lid from a container of creamy orange soup and rested it on the desk. Rich buttery scents rose between them. Whatever it was, the aroma was unusual and surprisingly appealing. When he'd texted the chef at the company restaurant to send up an order of the daily special and whatever Felicity Smoak in IT normally ordered, he half expected to get two salads. Instead, he got two bowls and two square Styrofoam containers.

"Is that the butternut squash soup?" She leaned forward without moving her feet any closer to his desk.

"Yes." He nodded. If the chef did what he asked, then it was whatever she thought it was.

She looked around, wetting her lips. "I don't want to start any gossip about me and the boss. Do you know how crazy it looks moving the IT girl to an executive office? No matter what title you slap on me, it looks I'm handling more than your PC."

Oliver's lips twitched. Oh, the imagery. "Nonsense."

Felicity guffawed. Irritated into combat, she dropped onto the chair before him and leaned towards the desk he littered in soups, sandwiches and napkins. She jammed a plastic spoon through its wrapper and dipped it into the soup. "It's not nonsense. Where women are concerned, if Oliver Queen's part of the equation, people assume sex will be the product. That's a multiplication reference. I don't know why I did that. I think I try to make things seem less sleazy with math."

Oliver smiled. "Well, I promise there will be no factoring in my office."

She blushed without lifting her eyes to his. "That's not how…you're doing it wrong. Not that you'd do it wrong. Oh my god. I'm sure you do it great, it's just that I can't really breathe right now because my _stupid_ is leaking." She pressed her lips into a hard line and raised a scorching red face to him. "I can't handle being in a glass office, Oliver. Not with everyone wondering if we spend our nights together."

"We do spend our nights together."

Felicity shoved a spoonful of soup between her lips and shook her head, apparently not touching that one at all.

Amusement lifted Oliver's smile further. He tipped back in his seat and laced his fingers behind his head. "How's the soup?"

She nodded. "S'good. My favorite. I didn't know you liked it."

"I asked the chef to surprise me."

Felicity turned her curious face on him. When she did, he was certain she saw through him, through the flimsy pretense of his mild interest in her. He hoped he was wrong. Caring was a dangerous business, especially for him. Being loved by him didn't end well for others. They got hurt. Or dead. Felicity had already been kidnapped, threatened and scrutinized for her relationship with him, either as Oliver Queen or as the Vigilante. It wasn't fair for him to drag her further into his world.

"You're doing it again." She set the soup on his desk. "You're frowning for no good reason. Did the chef do something?"

"Who?"

"The… never mind. What's on your mind? Don't tell me nothing. You still look murderous."

Oliver smoothed his brow. He'd promised himself to let her decide. It was her life. Her choice. She was a grown woman. He wouldn't push her away or put her into an awkward situation. Easier in concept than in practice. Every protective instinct in him said to send her running. Every fiber of his tattered humanity demanded he hold her close before she got saw him for what he was. Before she ran into the arms of someone truly secure. Like Jared. He ground his teeth.

"Oliver."

He tilted his head side to side, stretching his shoulders and neck. It was so much easier not to feel anything. Time on the island taught him survival. There was no room for feelings in survival. Then, he met her. He carried that shot to hell laptop into the IT department looking for a miracle and found one. Her blue eyes haunted him then and they pierced him now.

"Earth to Oliver."

He forced a smile. Subject change time. "What's on your sandwich?"

She lifted the bread and one eyebrow. "Pesto?"

"Can I try it?"

She slid the sandwich to Oliver on its wrapping. "Go for it. It's good though. You have to give it back."

"Mmm." He bit into the toasted bread, intending to change the subject and reroute his thoughts. He hadn't expected culinary genius. "This is fantastic."

"It's good. I know." She opened and closed her fingers in the universal sign for gimmee.

He smiled at the urgency in her expression. For a girl who hadn't planned on eating, she certainly looked eager. He lifted a finger. "One more bite."

Her bottom lip protruded a bit. Her brows pinched together. "One."

Oliver ran his tongue across his teeth. "Are you sure you have time to eat this? I mean, there are still boxes in there to unpack." He nodded toward her new office.

She crossed and uncrossed her legs. "You know what? I thought I knew all your secrets, but I just learned something new about you. You're a tease."

Oliver wrestled his smile into a smarmy grin and winked.

Her eyes glazed over. "Okay, enough of that. Gimmee the sandwich."

"I haven't been called a tease in a long time." Oliver sipped his water and relaxed. "How about you?"

Felicity stopped chewing. A dash of lipstick graced the bread at her fingertips. She swallowed and moved the sandwich up to hide her mouth. "I had a boyfriend who called me that once."

"Really." Oliver leaned forward. "Do share."

"I kneed him in his nether regions and he didn't call me names again. Not to my face anyway."

Oliver tipped his head back and laughed. "How old were you?"

"Twenty."

Oliver laughed again. This time his sides hurt. Served that guy right. Asshat.

"It's not that funny." She shoved a fingerful of hair behind her ears and sipped the soda which had arrived with their lunch. "What kind of creep says that to a girl? We were juniors in college for crying out loud."

"A very douchey guy."

Felicity cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. "This is when you're supposed to ask what I did to make him say that."

"What? Why?"

"Because that's what everyone says now. Everyone I've ever shared that story with has laughed first and then told me "nice job" and then asked what I did that resulted in his insult."

Oliver mulled over her words. He could see people asking that, maybe, though it hadn't occurred to him to ask. Why would he? It didn't matter did it? Someone so slimy he'd call a girl a tease would say it for any reason he deemed fit. He could've been naked when she pulled the brakes, or they could've had an awful dinner and they guy assumed buying dinner earned him some touch time. Hell, she could've smiled at him and he jumped that that conclusion. Men like that were idiots who didn't deserve the thought it took to guess what went on in their heads. If Thea ran into anyone like that, Oliver hoped she'd give the creep the same treatment Felicity did.

Irritation peppered his thoughts. He didn't like knowing a man had called her names or that the guy had quite possibly put his hands on her when she didn't ask.

He stared into her waiting eyes. "You know when sleaze balls say crap like that, they're saying nothing about who you are and everything about who they are. You didn't do anything to cause it. You can't inspire ignorance any more than you can stop it."

Her expression softened. "No one's ever said that before."

"Well, I'm saying it."

She gave him a little smile. "Careful, you're going to damage your bad boy reputation."

"I was a many things, but I was never a creep. I don't call women names. I've always been respectful and upfront about my intentions." Until now. "I was more of a trollup than anything."

Felicity snorted. "A trollup?"

"But I was always kind."

She nodded. "I believe that."

"Good. For what it's worth, I'm glad you nailed that guy, whoever he was. He earned some hurt for calling you names."

She shrugged. "I don't think it hurt nearly as much as I intended it to. I took some self-defense classes freshman year, but they were more focused on getting free and getting away than causing real damage."

Oliver stirred his soup. "I could beat him up for you, if you want."

Felicity laughed. "Oh. Now you just sound like the big brother I never wanted. No thanks."

"Well, I definitely do not want to be your big brother." He turned his gaze on hers. Curiosity pulled at him. "Is that how you see me? Like a brother?"

Felicity dropped her soda and set it upright a second later. "Sorry." The wrappers on his desk were dotted with her drink. "I'll get that." She walked stiff-backed to the bathroom in his office and yanked a handful of napkins from the dispenser.

Oliver met her inside the doorway, blocking any view of her from the world beyond his glass office walls. "Do you see me as a brother?" His voice was low and careful. He needed to know.

"No," she whispered, clutching napkins in her grip. "Not at all." Her words grew softer until the final word was little more than a movement of her lips. Her head tilted back as she looked into his face. He was too close, only inches away.

Oliver lifted one broad hand and curled it over both of hers. "I don't want you to think of me as a brother. Do you understand what I'm saying?" The clarification felt a bit military, but he need to make sure they understood one another. Every time they had a conversation he was left with more unanswered questions than answered ones. He couldn't keep this up and manage his patrols. Concentrating at work was hard enough. At night there was no room for distractions. He needed clarity.

"You're saying you don't want me to think of you as family?" Her voice hitched and cracked.

He shook his head. "Not like a brother."

"Like a very close friend?" Her breaths were deep and slow. Her eyes wide. In surprise or in hope, he wasn't sure.

He nodded. "You're my closest friend, Felicity."

She looked at his chest, as if to say, "at this moment, your very closest," but she didn't speak. Oliver released her hands and she tugged the collar of her blouse. "Is it hot in here?"

Yes. He took the napkins from her and held her gaze. She looked small enough to scoop up and carry away. Something curled in his gut at the thought. "I want you to trust me. To think of me as a confidante."

She smiled, relief filled her eyes. "I do. You're one of the people closest to me. I spend more time with you and Diggle than anyone else right now."

"I don't want you to think of me the way you think of Diggle."

He eyes stretched wide.

"You can, of course. I just hope that one day you'll see Diggle and I … differently."

Felicity sucked air. Oliver exhaled. Finally. She understood. She had to. No one that smart could miss his point. Could they?

Felicity leaned a hip against the sink. "I'm not sure what's happening right now and I'm afraid to speak. I don't want to screw up. You know how I get when I'm nervous and I try talking. It ends poorly."

Oliver bristled. Seriously? She wasn't sure that was happening right now? He was pouring his feelings out. He worked his jaw and caught his reflection in the mirror. His lips were pressed into a tight white line. His heavy hooded eyes were dark with frustration. Clearly, this was the murderous look she accused him of so often. Felicity squirmed in the tiny space before him. Great. He made her uncomfortable. _Winning move, Queen_. Where did he go wrong?

If he lifted her onto the sink and pulled her arms around his neck, maybe she'd get it then. If he dropped his mouth to hers and tasted the gloss on those full red lips, maybe then she'd understand. If he lingered against her until their heartbeats played the same score, maybe then…

His mouth drifted toward hers. He stopped short of a kiss, close enough for their breaths to mingle. Far enough that he could see her eyes clearly. "Am I being clearer now?"

She bobbed her head quickly before him. Her glasses slid a smidge down her nose. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. There. Now she got it.

Good, but in her time, not his. He straightened to his full height and using every ounce of self-control left in him, he turned for the desk with the paper towels she'd gathered. His skin tingled from the loss of her nearness. She exhaled behind him as he mopped up spilled soda. He would not rush back to her and shut the door behind them. He would not kiss her in an office bathroom. That wouldn't be their first kiss. No matter how much it pained him to wait. That wasn't the memory he wanted her to have. Assuming they ever had a first kiss, it would be a story she wanted to tell, not one she was ashamed of because they were at work hiding in the toilet. He shook off the irritation overcoming him. What was he thinking following her in there? Did he have any impulse control at all around her?

He dropped the napkins into the trash, satisfied with his cleanup efforts.

A barely there whisper wobbled in the air behind him. "Tease."

His cheek lifted as he turned and caught her eye, crossing the room to take her seat.

He lifted his water bottle from the desk, no longer able to think of food. "That's not nice. I thought we talked about that."

She lifted her eyebrows in a dare. "Do you think that was nice?" She nodded to the bathroom where they'd stood a moment before. "You know, if you give me a stroke I won't be much help to you."

"I promise not to give you a stroke."

"Yeah. Well. Bummer." She bit her lip and smiled. The look was sexy and mischievous, two sides of her he hoped to see more of very soon.


	9. Chapter 9

Oliver jogged down the steps to the lair, satisfied with the crowd at Verdant. Thea had risen to an enormous challenge by taking over the club in his absence. She was tougher than he'd given her credit for. He shook his head in wonder. She wasn't the child he'd left behind six years ago. While he was on the island, and even in the year since he'd returned, Thea had grown up. Her boyfriend wasn't too bad either, though Oliver would prefer it if Roy would stop touching his little sister. Indefinitely. Oliver ground his teeth, but Thea's smile came to mind. Roy made her smile.

"What are you growling at? You just got here." Felicity kicked back in her chair and waved a slice of pizza. "Diggle brought pizza. Dinnertime."

Oliver lifted his chin. "Thanks, Dig. What's on our agenda tonight?"

Diggle set his drink on the table and threaded his arms into leather coat sleeves. "Pizza's for Felicity. I'm on my way out. Are you staying? When I came through it looked like your sister had everything under control upstairs. I can drive you." His eyes drifted from Oliver to Felicity. "Or you. How'd you get here tonight? You need a lift home?"

Her chin swung left and right. "Nope. I drove. No ride required." She smiled at Oliver. "I'm running a few scans before I go home. If you're staying, I can give you a ride later." Her cheeks flushed.

DIggle snorted. He took the steps two at a time without another glance their way. "Tomorrow."

Oliver loosened his tie. "Later, DIggle." An evening alone with Felicity sounded good. They could get to know one another outside the office and Arrow duties.

Felicity set her pizza aside and focused on the screen before her. "I see you're wearing the tie I gave you again."

He wrapped the material around his fingers and pulled it free with a snap. "I am."

Felicity jumped. She pressed a hand to her chest. "That was hot."

His lips quirked, enjoying the flush in her milky skin. "Thank you. I like this tie."

Her head bobbed. "Me too."

Oliver coiled the tie around his fist and leaned against Felicity's desk. Her gaze moved to the tie in his fist, then to the line of buttons on his shirt. She pulled in a long silent breath. Another sight he appreciated more and more.

Felicity cleared her throat and pushed her paper plate aside. "Are you staying to work out?"

Oliver walked away, working through the buttons on his shirt and pushing the material over his shoulders. The sensation of her eyes on his skin burned through him. He caught the shirt in his grip and slipped free of the fabric.

Felicity's phone dinged, and Oliver's feet stopped short of the training mat. His senses heightened.

He turned to face her. "Everything okay?"

Felicity smiled at the phone. "Yeah. It's nothing. Jared. He's in the Glades with his Big Brothers & Big Sisters group looking for kids to mentor and help through the tragedy."

Jeez. Oliver skulked back to Felicity's side with a smile. "Oh yeah?" The pleasant tone of his voice rung fraudulent in his ears. She didn't seem to notice.

"Look." Felicity turned the phone to face Oliver. Jared's too tall body filled the tiny frame. He wore a big red clown nose and had a toddler balanced on his shoulders. "Isn't that cute? He's really great with kids. He's from a big family."

The corners of Oliver's mouth pulled down. "Adorable."

Felicity put the phone in her lap. "Oh. Sorry. I guess I interrupted your workout. I know you mean business when you get started pounding that bag." She lifted a finger toward the punching bag in the corner and turned her face away.

Her phone dinged. She giggled.

Oliver shut his eyes and counted to ten. Was it just him, or did the temperature in the lair drop ten degrees?

Felicity appeared at his side. "He's rescuing a puppy." She turned her phone to Oliver.

"Of course he is." Oliver rolled his shoulders. "So, where's the big guy been these days?" He'd hoped Jared found another employee to stalk when he hadn't shown up at Felicity's desk for two days.

She frowned and stuffed the phone into her pocket. "Jared thinks you have a problem with him coming onto the executive floor, so he stopped coming by to get me for lunch."

Oliver's brows rose. "Oh?"

"Don't look so pleased. He thinks you're a meaner. Like only certain people are worthy to walk your floor."

"What'd you call me?" He worked up his most innocent expression. "I like Jared."

Her eyes narrowed.

"I do. He graduated top of his class. The employees love him. He has impeccable manners, saves puppies and apparently owns one of every sweater vest style from the Too-Tall Warehouse."

Felicity laughed and pushed his chest. "Stop. That's not a real place."

Oliver's laugh spilled out. "I'm serious. The man likes his giant sweater vests."

"Stop it."

Oliver admired her easy laugh, the way she seemed at ease with him, despite everything she knew. He nudged her with his elbow. "Really. How tall is that guy?"

She lifted a doubtful eyebrow.

He raised his palms forward. "I'm honestly curious. I want to keep you safe, and I'm not convinced it's safe for you to be hanging around him."

"Oliver." Felicity snorted. "He's not dangerous."

"No. He is. You could get hit by lightning."

Felicity tipped her head back and laughed until her face went red. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You _are_ mean?" Her hand lingered on his bicep.

The touch coursed through him, urging him to return the gesture, but how could he? Any move he made could scare her away.

His throat thickened. Was it possible his advances might frighten her? No. Maybe. Who knew? How could he know unless he tried, but that was impossible? Whatever happened between them had to be Felicity's choice. Done in her time. If she'd make the move, he'd take it from there.

Oliver lifted a strand of her hair and rolled it in his fingertips. Coconut drifted on the air between them. "You'd break your neck trying to kiss him." The final word caught in his throat.

Felicity's smile fell. Her head tilted back, adjusting for their height difference as she looked up at him. Her voice was a whisper. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Her small pink tongue darted across her bottom lip, wetting it, testing his resolve. Making him insane. If she made the smallest move toward him, lifted even a fraction of an inch onto her toes, he'd accept that as an invitation. He scrutinized her breaths, her stance, her expression. Any move at all, and he'd take over.

She blinked and swayed back onto her heels. A careful smile graced her lips, something between embarrassment and disappointment crossed her face.

The knotted muscles in Oliver's chest and arms eased. They'd bunched to spring, ready to wrap her in his strength and promises her all the things his lips and heart weren't prepared to lay bare.

She leaned a shoulder into the curve of his body. Maybe she, too, wasn't ready to break their connection completely. "Break my neck, huh?" She shot him an ornery look. "How would you know?"

"Experience." Oliver feigned disappointment. "You think I'm immune to those lips of his?"

"Shut up." She laughed.

"What? I'm giving you fair warning. He's too tall. I'm just saying. Nothing good will come of that."

Felicity leaned her weight into him for a second. "Well, well. Who knew you were a hypocrite, Mr. Queen? One tall guy bashing another. It's shocking." She pressed a fingertip to his breastbone and pushed away.

Oliver grabbed her wrists and pulled her to him. "I'm not tall. For your information, Miss Smarty two shoes, I'm extremely average."

"You're not average, Oliver."

He grunted as she stepped away, breaking their bond. His gaze dropped to the floor. He wasn't average. He wasn't the safe choice. Wasn't the guy next door like Jared or any of her other suitors. Tommy's words whooshed in his ears. _You're a murderer_.

Felicity's face swam into view. She'd bent her knees and moved under his gaze. He followed her wide blue eyes as she stood before him again, having regained his attention. "Hey. I don't like that look." Her palm burned a trail along his jawbone. "I don't think you're average. I think you're extraordinary."

Oliver covered her hand with his. Emotion stirred in his gut. Things he didn't have words for tried to surface without success. "Back at ya, Smoak."

Her phone dinged inside her pocket, breaking the unbearable tension, but she didn't move.

"Do you need to get that?" Oliver's voice was rough, too telling of the turmoil inside him.

"Nope."

Every muscle in his body ached from restraint. Letting Felicity take the lead proved more difficult than he'd imagined. He wasn't accustomed to _not_ reaching for the things he needed.

She closed her eyes for a long beat and exhaled. "Since you're clearly not in a hurry to work out tonight, can I interest you in some cold pizza and warm soda? I know what you're thinking. Dining Felicity style is an acquired taste." She nodded. "It is." Felicity pursed her lips and blew out a long breath.

To Oliver's surprise, she curled her small fingers around his and towed him along behind her to the table with pizza and sodas. The continued touch meant something, right? She'd never do that at the office. He's never seen her pull Diggle along like that. "I know you prefer health food, but I think you can handle one slice." Her face blushed as she tore a slice of pizza from the pie and handed him a plate. Did her eyes cling to the bare skin of his chest, or did he imagine that, too?

"Just one?" What did that mean? He looked at his chest. He had cut a few workouts short lately. Running the company took more time than he'd imagined.

She shut the lid to the pizza box and ran a lazy gaze over his body. "Well. You can't all be tall."

Oliver laughed. "Shut up." He lifted the slice she'd chosen for him. "Brat."

Felicity leaned across the table and tapped her slice to his in a gesture resembling "Cheers."

"Hey, I'm just saying." She winked. "Tall doesn't always win."

Oliver's brows rose. He chewed the pizza and swallowed. "But does it get the girl?"

Felicity blushed. A moment later, her shoulders squared and her eyes pierced his. "That depends on the competition. More than that, anyone worthy of competition already knows what she wants and if she doesn't, she wasn't worth chasing."

Ah. He was absolutely counting on that.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Thank you guys for all the amazing reviews and PMs. I'm still reeling from last week's episode, so this chapter takes on many of those feelings. I couldn't help myself! Hope you will enjoy :)**_

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Oliver clenched his jaw as he watched Felicity at her desk. Through the glass wall between offices, he noticed every flinch, every frown. Things were going in the right direction between them, he'd thought. Then Count Vertigo got his hands on her and it all fell apart. Oliver's knuckles whitened around the pen in his hand.

Five o'clock had come and gone, but Felicity made no move to leave. She was lost in that head of hers. Half Oliver's heart would give up the empire to hear her thoughts, the other half couldn't bear to know. Curiosity was too often punished with the truth.

The gentle hum of a floor shiner on the floor below accounted for the only sounds outside his walls. He had decisions to make. He could order in room service and a cot for the night, or approach her and ask if she'd noticed the time. Oliver ran a heavy hand over his hair. Queen Consolidated employees left in a wave of relief hours ago. Aside from night security and a janitor or two, everyone was long gone. Home where they belonged. Except Felicity.

Oliver forced his body towards her office at a snail's pace, giving her plenty of time to see him coming. She'd jumped in her chair at the smallest sound since her abduction. She'd played it off well, but he saw through her façade. She was hurt, scared and stubbornly refusing to fall apart so she could properly put herself back together. No good would come of that. Everyone had a breaking point and he was the warning label on the box.

Her wide blue eyes turned to his as he reached the door separating their offices. The familiar tug in his chest began. Her lips curved slightly into a version of the smile he enjoyed so much. His lips curved, too. Both wore careful smiles. Both with agendas. His agenda was to get her home safely and offer her a place to take off her brave face for a while. By the looks of it, her agenda was to continue pretending she was fine.

"Hey." He pressed the door open and waited for an invitation to join her. Soft scents of coconut and gardenia beckoned him inside.

Felicity stood. "Hey. Come in. Do you need anything?"

Oliver hitched an eyebrow. "Felicity. It's after nine."

Her gaze dropped to her monitor. "Oh. Wow. What are you still doing here?"

He frowned. "Me? I came to ask you the same thing. If anyone has work to catch up on, it's me. You on the other hand, should be home. Resting. You should've taken the rest of this week as paid leave. I checked your file. You have a respectable amount of sick days."

"I'm not sick." Her words ran together with urgency.

"Felicity." He softened his voice. "You were abducted. By a psychopath. Who touched you. Held a syringe to your throat and threatened your life."

Her head swung left and right. Her eyelids shut as he continued.

Oliver stepped closer and lowered his voice. "You saw me kill him. You must need a few days to recover from that."

Her eyes sprang open, glistening with unshed tears. "I am so completely sorry you had to make that choice." Her lips quivered with each word. "You shouldn't have had to make that choice. Not for me. Never for me." She wound her arms around her middle, as if the act could somehow hold her together. She looked years younger and desperate for something Oliver couldn't name.

The tug in his chest dropped into his gut and coiled painfully. He moved to her side, stopping well inside her personal space, beyond the invisible barrier she'd put up after that dreadful night. These last few days, he'd watched her step back when anyone came near. She'd smile, feign a sneeze or cough and avoid their touch. Since that monster grabbed her, she'd become unwilling to be touched by anyone.

But she let him near. Oliver stood closely enough to touch her and she didn't step away. He could lift a hand and pull her close. She let him into the space she'd protected so fiercely and it warmed him.

Felicity adjusted her glasses and wrapped a fingerful of hair behind each ear before quickly returning her arms to her torso. She tipped her chin and moved her weary eyes to his. A storm of emotion rolled across her pretty face. Sadness. Emptiness. Worry. Fear.

He'd instilled the fear. He had to be the one to remove it. He owed her at least as much. Oliver extended his hand her way. She didn't flinch. He exhaled, thankful she didn't fear him. He unwrapped her arms from her waist and curled his fingers into her hands. Leaning against her desk, he positioned himself at eye level to her, erasing any perceived dominance, he hoped. He'd never been small like her or so easily damaged. The purple crescents lining her eyes said she hadn't slept. The dash of pale, uncovered freckles said makeup wasn't the same priority it had been.

Oliver inhaled to tamp the fury building in him. He forced his voice to a murmur. She was frightened. Revealing his anger toward a dead man wouldn't help matters. "I've said this before, but it needs saying again." His words cracked with emotion. He cleared his throat and tipped his head to work the bunched muscles in his neck. "He had you and he was going to hurt you. There was no choice to make."

It was Oliver's turn to jump.

Felicity fell forward, planting herself into his chest and burrowing her face into his shirt. Her arms wrapped around his waist and a small sob shook her thin frame. His arms cradled her, holding her near, promising not to let go until she asked. Breath caught in his throat as her silent tears warmed his shirt.

Oliver stroked the golden hair falling down her back. "Shh. Shh. Shh. It's okay. He's gone and I'm here. I'll never let anyone hurt you."

The selfishness twisted inside him. Never mind the fact she'd never be in any danger if it weren't for him. That was his pill to swallow. He couldn't release her from his life, though it was the only right thing to do. He wouldn't. Couldn't. Somehow, the girl who gave clarity to technological problems he and Diggle encountered last year had become the one person who gave clarity to his life. She was his anchor between humanity and insanity and selfish or not, he needed her in ways he couldn't understand let alone articulate beyond the fact it was the truth. He just needed her.

"I'm so sorry." She wiped her eyes and adjusted her position against him, without moving away. "Not that he's dead. I think I'd have done that myself if there was some way in hell that was possible. He was trying to kill the entire city. I hate him." Her tiny fist clench the fabric at Oliver's back.

Ridiculously, Oliver smiled.

Felicity wiggled her head against his chest and groaned. "Oh. Wow. I don't think I've ever wanted anyone dead before. What is wrong with me?"

Oliver pressed his lips to her head and froze. Holding her was one thing. Kissing her, even her hair, was another. He lifted his lips slightly and waited for her to recoil.

Her fingers pressed tighter against his back and the fire in his gut threatened to move lower. He turned his head and bit into the thick of his bottom lip. Not. Appropriate. He pressed his cheek to her head and reordered his thoughts. "You had a traumatic experience. What you're going through now is normal. It's part of the healing process and it's okay to feel however you feel. There's no guilt in recovering, by whatever means necessary. You'll feel a little more like yourself every day." _Less damaged. Less broken. Less like him. _More like the one person he suspected could bring him back to life. Until a few months ago he was dead inside and he'd come to terms with that. He'd died on the island and a zombie version of Oliver Queen had returned.

Then one inconsequential day, Felicity made a horrible joke he couldn't remember, and an ember of hope rose from the ashes of his dead heart. He'd locked eyes with her and she stopped breathing. She pulled in a short breath and froze. Her smile fell for a moment and then doubled in size. Right then, he knew. She cared for him. He wasn't sure how or to what capacity, but this woman who had no reason to trust him, let alone help him, cared for him. In that moment, he gave into an idea he'd let go of long before. Redemption.

Oliver blinked the memory away. "How about I take you home? I can order dinner on our way and walk you to your door. I'll even stay until I hear every lock turned."

Felicity leaned away from him. His fingers ached to haul her closer. Releasing her went against his every instinct. Her feet were between his as he leaned against her desk. She wiped a tear resting on her cheek. Something was wrong. Her fingers wound in the hem of her sweater. Her gaze darter over his shoulders and stopped on his chest. She patted the spot where her tears had dampened his shirt.

Oliver caught her hand and pressed it to his heart. "Whatever you're thinking. You can tell me. I will always _hear_ you. Do you understand? Always."

She nodded quickly. Her eyes made a trail over his chest, shoulders and neck. He swallowed. When her gaze found his, the emotions had burned away. Only resolution remained in her stare.

Resolution for what, he wasn't sure. "Felicity. I can take it. Tell me."

"I don't want you to drive me home or order me dinner or walk me to my door. I don't need you to make a show of keeping me safe because I know you will always be there for me. I know I don't always see you, but I know you're there. I _know_, Oliver."

His heart rose and fell at such a tragic pace heat scorched his neck. What did the words mean? His mind raced to sort them, but all he knew for sure was she didn't want him taking her home or caring for her. She knew he watched out for her from afar and that was where she wanted to keep him. With every ounce of strength left, he smiled. Showing disappointment would help no one. He'd wanted her to take the lead, hadn't he? To tell him what she wanted from their relationship. And she just did. And that was okay. It had to be okay.

Felicity pulled her laptop bag cross body and blew out a long breath. "Say something."

"Can I call you a car then?"

"No."

He pursed his lips. "Very well."

Her clear blue eyes fell shut. Sadness weighted Oliver's heart. He hadn't realized he'd let himself hope until the hope was gone. Emotions were overrated. He didn't care what other people said. Feeling was much harder than turning it off and focusing on tasks. Tasks he understood.

Felicity shook her hands out at the wrists and took another deep breath.

Oliver frowned, drawn back to the moment at hand. What was she gearing up for a run? A fight? He'd never seen her behave this way.

"Are you okay?"

"I lied again." She scrunched her face and growled.

"You." Wait a minute. "What? When? Now or some other time?

"Now." She licked her lips. "I don't want you to take care of me. Not like that. I can take care of my own ride and dinner. I can set my security alarm." She shook her head, dashing blond ringlets against her cheeks. "I want you to do those things if they mean something more to you than rescuing a princess. Not that I'm a princess by any stretch, but I don't want you to feel obligated for follow up treatment. I'm fine. You saved my life. Again. And I'm fine. Your deed is done. Your duty's fulfilled."

Oliver crossed his arms over his chest. "So you _do_ want me to see you home? I'm sorry. I'm confused."

"No. Yes!" She stamped her foot.

Oliver smiled.

Felicity huffed and locked eyes with him. "I want you to come over because you want to come over. Not out of obligation to check on me. I want you to want to have dinner with _me_. Not your partner-in-whatever-it-is-you'd-call-what-we-do, but as your…friend. I want you to want to know _me_."

Oliver's heart burned. "Yeah?"

She nodded, lips pinched tight.

A smile split Oliver's face. Dangerous hope lifted him from the desk and moved him toward her. His fingers wrapped around the wide leather strap on her shoulder. He hoisted the bag from her body and hooked it over his shoulder. "What are we waiting for?"

Felicity's smile lit her bright eyes. "I hope you like Chinese. I could really eat some Chinese food right now."

Oliver followed Felicity into the elevator of Queen Consolidated lighter than he'd been in years. When the shiny mirrored doors closed before them. He watched their matching smiles in the reflection. Rearranging his features was impossible for a long moment. When he regain proper composure, Felicity leaned into his side. It was the slightest of pressures, but Oliver leaned back. He was right here. And he wasn't leaving.


	11. Chapter 11

Diggle slid into the booth across from Oliver. The aged red vinyl groaned with the weight of its new occupant. "How you doing, Oliver?"

Oliver stacked sugar packets on the salt shaker. "Alright." He scrubbed his hands over jean clad thighs, and dragged his attention to the friend before him. An easy smile lit his face. "Everything okay?"

Echoes of silverware on dishes echoed from the kitchen. Big Belly Burger closed soon.

"Mmhmm." Diggle lifted two fingers and a waitress approached with coffee. "Thanks."

Oliver tipped his head in recognition and lifted the cup to his lips. Tendrils of bitter steam rose into the air around his face.

Diggle shook two packets of sugar into his coffee. Two packets he'd confiscated from Oliver's careful condiment tower. "This isn't about a certain young brainiac is it?"

Oliver pressed his lips into a hard line. Things were going well with Felicity. They'd spent more time as friends lately. Doing normal people things like eating take out and watching television. So far so good, though she made no clear indication of her feelings toward him. Signs pointed to the fact she was interested in exploring more than friendship. She continued touching him. He liked that. She found reasons to fidget with his collar or brush invisible lint from his shirt. Sometimes in the lair, she'd squeeze his hand or shoulder when they hunted a criminal online. "I thought it'd take months for her to bounce back after the Count's attack. She's really come around." He shook his head and bit the insides of his cheek. The Count had put his hands on her.

Diggle snorted. "She's tough, but I meant, Barry Allen. Then again, I guess those two go hand in hand in these days."

Oliver lifted an eyebrow. His eyes narrowed. "That guy." He set the mug on the counter and leaned against the booth, stretching his legs beneath the table. Tension bunched in his muscles at the sound of that name.

"She was skyping with him at the lair when I left."

"Great."

Diggle tilted his head a fraction, the way he did before putting his friendly nose into Oliver's personal business. "Any particular reason you're holding a grudge against the man who saved your life?"

"Man? He's barely older than Thea."

"He's old enough," Diggle muttered.

Oliver's eyes flashed. His gaze jumped to meet his friend's. "I don't trust him."

"I think you do. I also think you like him and that's what's got you wound so tight."

"Well, what's not to like? He's a regular, every day, age appropriate hero." One who saved lives and didn't take them.

Diggle leaned his elbows on the table. "Age appropriate. You've lost me Oliver. A minute ago he wasn't yet a man."

"I just…" Oliver ran heavy hands over his hair. "I need a good workout. That's all. I think I'm going to go wear myself out and get some sleep."

"Good idea. The sleep part, I mean."

Oliver clapped Diggle's shoulder as he strode past on his way to the door. "See you tomorrow, Dig."

Oliver jogged down the steps to the lair and halted. Felicity's laughter carried through the cavernous room. He ground his teeth. Seriously? She was still skyping with Barry? It had to have been an hour since DIggle left the lair.

Oliver's gut clenched. This was awkward. He shouldn't have to leave his own lair. He scanned the area. Standing there was weird. Retreating was ridiculous. Barging in seemed…rude. He shook his head and marched forward.

Long strides carried him toward Felicity's desk. He peeled his jacket and shirt off as he moved, already planning the series of exercises he'd use to burn the excess energy.

Felicity gasped. "Oliver!" She pressed a hand to her chest. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Hello Mr. Queen." Barry's energetic voice squeaked through the speakers beside Felicity's monitor.

Oliver headed for his pull up bar. Maybe interrupting their talk was a good thing. Being a fly on the wall would give him a shred of insight into Felicity's relationship with Barry. She avoided him as a topic.

Oliver stopped beneath the bar. What kind of name was Barry anyway? He caught the bar and flipped over, hanging by his knees instead. Barry was a smart guy name. Oliver was a family name. A hand me down rich guy name. Since Felicity was into brains and not bank accounts: point for Barry.

Oliver crossed his arms over his chest and lifted into a crunch. "Don't mind me."

"Wow." Barry's voice mixed with Felicity's.

Felicity turned her back on Oliver and adjusted the screen. "I'm glad everything's okay at the office. I'd hate to think saving Oliver cost you your job."

Oliver grunted and picked up the pace, twisting left and right as he crunched.

Barry's barked a short laugh. "Not at all. In fact, it was probably a call from him that saved my job. My boss never got specific about his change of heart, but I expect there was some persuasion involved."

Felicity adjusted her glasses and peaked over one shoulder.

Oliver dismounted the bar and scooped up his gloves to hit the heavy bag. Saving Barry's job was the least he could do after the little guy saved Oliver's life. Plus, back to work for Barry meant back to Central City, so…

"Well," Felicity cooed, "I'm glad you're happy."

Barry's voice cracked as he spoke. "How about you? You're in danger all the time over there. It must be exhausting."

Oliver grimaced and laid into the heavy bag. Touché Mr. Allen.

Felicity straightened in her seat. "I don't feel that way."

She didn't?

"I mean, yeah, I get into some … trouble sometimes, but it comes with the job and I like the job. And I feel safe. Even when things seem scary bad to everyone else, I know I'm never alone. I've got a secret."

Barry groaned. "Ah. And on that note. I think I hear the doorbell."

Felicity giggled. "Right. Okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Jeez. They talked every day now? Oliver pressed his gloved hands against his hips.

"What do you call this move?" Felicity stood beside him, hands on hips.

"What?"

"Well, you stopped hitting that bag as soon as you started. It almost seemed like you were eavesdropping."

Oliver's neck and face heated. He clenched his jaw. "On what?"

Felicity guffawed. "Oh, I don't know. My conversation with Barry, maybe?"

"Nope." Oliver hit the bag with little effort. "I was meditating."

Felicity laughed. "Reeaally."

"Absolutely."

She pressed her lips together, but her cheeks rose in amusement.

Oliver tapped the bag again. "I was meditating. I had no intention of interrupting your date."

Felicity popped a hip. "Are you sure because you could've left when you got here and saw us talking."

"It's my lair." Oliver growled.

Felicity laughed. "Oliver, I'm kidding. It wasn't a date. How are you feeling?"

"Better." He stepped away and returned with a set of trainer mitts. "Slip these on."

She stepped back. "What? Why?"

Oliver followed. "You can help me workout." His gaze slid over her pink cheeks. The blush bloomed across her chest and face. He loved the change in her. He loved it even more that he could trigger the response. A groan built in his throat. What other reactions he could trigger given the chance?

"Um." She swallowed and widened her stance. "I don't. I can't really." She slid the trainer mitts on and lifted them chest high. "Is this right? I've never done this. I don't think I'm the best one for this job."

A smile crept over Oliver's lips. "You're exactly the right one." His heavy hooded lids drooped further. A prowling instinct tugged in his center. "Don't worry. I'll be gentle."

"Good lord." She pressed her eyes shut and exhaled. She opened wide blue eyes and nodded.

Oliver hit her mitt, gently, as promised. "Okay?"

Her head bobbed quickly. "Mmhmm. Yep. Okay."

He hit the next pad a little harder, jostling her. "Still okay?"

Her head bobbed. Her breathing became unsteady, inciting a wide wolfish grin from Oliver.

He hit each mitt quickly. "Yes?"

"Yes."

His hands dropped to his sides. The breathy clip of her voice on that word unravelled him. He stripped off the gloves. "I think that's enough."

She tossed the mitts aside and pulled in a deep breath.

Oliver's head fell back. A hearty laugh bubbled out of his chest, taking the tension and stress of his day with it. "Are you okay?" His words jumbled with laughter. What was wrong with her? He laughed harder.

"Me?" she huffed, straightening her silk blouse. She puffed the fabric away from her chest in rapid moves. "I don't know what you were doing, but it wasn't fair. I think the air stopped circulating in here. I think I lost oxygen to my brain."

Oliver adjusted his stance. He'd lost some oxygen to his brain as well.

"So, what's next?" She gathered the length of her hair and lifted it off her neck.

"You can help me with my stretches." He angled his chin to the mats. "We can do some mat work."

Her eyes stretched wide.

Oliver winked and Felicity scurried back a few paces. "Oh. Something is going on with you and you are…ornery."

Something like that. He smiled. "You're flustered."

"Yes. I am. And you're behaving oddly and ornery and I'm not sure how to do this with you." She laughed. One palm rose to cover her pretty pink lips. "Why does everything I say around you sound dirty?"

Oliver inched closer, savoring the moment, memorizing her cute confession. "You weren't on a date with Barry?"

"No."

"Does he know that?"

She nodded. "He knows I'm not available. He's the one who pointed it out, actually. I mean, I am single, but he's pretty insightful."

"You're not seeing anyone. Yet, you aren't available." Oliver leaned against a desk, gripping the edge to keep his hands to himself. Who was his competition if not Barry? Jared? Jeez. She had an endless attraction to good guys.

Felicity leaned against the desk beside him. "It seems I'm attached to someone who is completely unavailable." Her cheeks changed from pink to scarlet. "Sometimes I think he feels it too, but he's not _that guy_, you know? He's got crazy high standards. For himself. Not for his women. And not that they're all bad, but sometimes I can't understand his reasons. "

Oliver twisted at the waist for a clear look into her eyes. "What are you saying? Precisely."

She shrugged. Her fingers pinched and twisted a loose thread on her cuff. "This guy. He doesn't get involved with people he could truly care about."

"Ouch." The words hit Oliver like a blow to the gut. "Felicity." She handed his own words back at him without vehemence.

She shook her head. "It's okay, Oliver." She lifted her palms, indicating the secret underground lair around them. "I get it. And it's okay."

Oliver pushed off the desk and reached for her hand. "Hey." He moved in front of her, invading her space. Pushing his luck. "I haven't been close to anyone in a really long time. I only said those things to you because I know what I have here. You're my best friend. What if I mess this up? Then what?"

She nodded. "I know. There's a lot at stake. A whole city. I mean, who chooses one girl over an entire city?" Her gaze dropped. "I get it."

Oliver dipped his face to hers, bending his knees to meet her at eye level. His voice grew heavy. "Felicity. You are far more than just one girl."

Her hesitant hands lifted between them, stopping on his cheeks. Her thumbs grazed the edge of his lips. "You have a city to protect." She rose onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his cheek. "I would never put myself ahead of what you do here. I **_am_** just one girl, Ollie."

Oliver swallowed the urge to wrap strong fingers around her wrists and anchor her in place. She didn't date because she was emotionally unavailable. Already attached. To him. She'd confided so much in him. She trusted him.

He stroked her arm. It didn't have to be her or the city. It was what he'd implied after their return from Russia, but he was beginning to see another way. An alternative path where their bond made him stronger, not weaker.

"We both know my life is dangerous. I'm dangerous. This," he motioned between them…

She smiled weakly. "Is dangerous?"

He nodded. "Maybe. But it's your life. Your choice. It's also something you should give lots of very careful consideration. Your safety is my priority. It needs to be yours too. Do you understand?"

Felicity froze. She shuddered out a shallow breath.

Silence.

What did it mean? Was she trying to kill him?

"Okay." Her lips barely moved.

He suppressed a growing smile. "Okay?"

Felicity drew in a long breath. "Do you still want some help on the mats?"

An overload of images rampaged his thoughts.

Her answer was insanely vague, but he'd count tonight as a victory. Point: Oliver. "I'd classify mat work with me right now is a risky venture, Miss Smoak. Some might even say unwise."

Felicity's expression went flat. "I think I'll take my chances."

"Wreckless and a little dim. I like that in a woman." Oliver's smile widened at the obvious lie. Felicity Smoak was many things, none of which came close to wreckless or dim. He edged towards the mats, tugging her along by her fingertips. "Then, consider yourself warned."

She moved with him adjusting her glasses with a grin. "Noted."

* * *

_**Thank you guys SO super much for all the reviews and words of encouragement on this. I think it's about time these two kiss. I like the slow burn, but I feel like I've drawn this out as long as possible without combusting the author LOL. I think the kiss should be mega melt-the-sun hot SO, the next chapter will give this ship a little action. If you are a self torturer who prefers more almost moments, then consider yourself warned ;)**_

_**Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for all the follows and favorites. *dances in tiny circle* THANK YOU!**_


	12. Chapter 12

This was it.

Oliver straightened his favorite green tie and threaded his arms into a black jacket. He'd tried on more casual outfits, only to return to the tie. Felicity had insisted on a casual, no pressure, avoid all unnecessary awkward moments type of night for their first official date, but tie needed to be a part of this memory.

The door to Oliver's room creaked open. Thea sauntered in with a whistle. "Where ya going?"

"To the theatre for a movie and then the patio for some dinner." Was the jacket too much?

Thea's brows crowded together. "You mean _a_ theatre or _our_ theatre?"

"Ours."

Another whistle blew across her lips. "Well, ya don't say. All dressed up for a date at home? Do I know the girl? Better question." She lifted a finger. "Does she know you because I'm not sure I do right now."

"What's up?" Roy stood in the open doorway. "Are you ready to go? Oh, Hey, Oliver."

Oliver nodded. "Roy. Feel free to take my sister out for a long evening of good manners and polite conversation."

"Oliver has a hot date," Thea tattled.

Roy raised a scarred brow. "With who?"

Thea's smile slid over her face in a cartoonish, satisfied look, not unlike the Grinch. "Yeah, Ollie. Who's the lucky lady? Do we know her?"

Oliver squirmed under their scrutiny. _Ridiculous_. He squared his shoulders. "Yes. You do. Are you leaving soon? Maybe I can call you a car or perhaps escort you out?"

Thea clapped silently. "Does that mean she's on her way now?" She grabbed Roy's shirt. "Let's stay until she gets here."

"No." Oliver shot a warning look at Roy.

The doorbell rang and Oliver bristled. "I'll get that. You two stay here." He moved toward the oversized front door at a clip. The anticipation was unsettling. He'd watched a number of shows with Felicity this month. Shared copious amounts of take out. Why should this night feel so different? _Besides the fact they'd admitted mutual feelings for one another and a shared desire to pursue those feelings. _No big deal. Or it shouldn't have been, between two adults, but Oliver couldn't shake the feeling his hair stuck up in back and his braces might pinch her lips if they kissed.

Roy and Thea arrived at the front door on Oliver's heels.

Oliver groaned. "Don't act crazy."

Thea crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

Oliver swung the door wide and his sister nearly bit off her own tongue closing her mouth.

"Felicity." Three voices united.

Oliver extended a hand her way. "Come in."

Thea smirked. "Felicity Smoak. We've been waiting for you."

Felicity's brows drew together. "You have? Because I thought I was on time for once." She looked from face to face.

Oliver pulled her inside and shut the door. "I think these two kids were on their way out. Weren't you?"

"Oh, don't leave on my account." Felicity smiled. "Was I really late? How long have you been expecting me?"

Roy opened the door for Thea and pursed his lips. "I don't know, six, seven months I think."

Thea kissed Oliver's cheek and followed Roy through the door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Oliver rolled his eyes and turned his back to the door. "Well, that gives me all kinds of wiggle room."

"I overdressed." Felicity smoothed her cotton dress. "I couldn't decide what to wear so I went with this. Not too casual but not dressy. I should've dressed up."

Oliver pressed his lips to her cheek, savoring the scent and warmth of her skin on his. "You look perfect."

"You wore the tie." She slid the green fabric between her fingertips.

"It seemed…appropriate."

Felicity's smile warmed him. The happiness in her eyes gave rise to hope in his heart. Something he'd long ago said goodbye to.

She raised her eyes from the tie to meet his gaze. "What should we do first?"

"I'm glad you asked."

A smile split her face. "Yeah?"

He slid his hands behind her back and pulled her nearer. "Normally, I'd wait until we were watching the movie to make a move. I'd pretend to yawn."

She giggled and stage winked. "Nice."

"Thanks. Then, I'd stretch obnoxiously big and slide an arm around you." He shrugged. "It's my signature move."

She pressed her palms to his chest. "Stop. Don't tell me all your secrets up front. Keep a girl guessing."

Oliver widened his stance, planting his feet on either side of hers and looked down the distance separating their heights. What had taken them so long to get to this place? "Next, I'd probably say something endearing and you'd laugh."

"Unlikely."

He raised his brows. "You doubt my charm?"

"Definitely. I basically find you appalling."

Oliver growled. "Wow. You really know how to tear down a guy's game."

Her eyes twinkled, crinkling at the corners. "Sorry. You're going to have to do better than some middle school yawning moves and lame one liners to get this girl's attention."

He counted on it.

Felicity's palms slid over his chest and locked behind his head, aligning their bodies against one another. Finally.

Their breaths mingled for a moment as he leaned over her. Carefully, he brushed her lips with feather light caresses.

Felicity sighed against his mouth. Her body melted into his and desire scorched through him.

"Felicity," he whispered.

Her eyes didn't open. "Kiss me, Oliver." Her fingers curled against the nape of his neck.

Shock waves jolted down his back and he obeyed. The tentative kiss gave way instantly. An urgency fueled by a year of wanting, waiting and denying swept through him. Her warm lips moved slowly with his, heating him to the core. A soft moan rose to his ears. She was as consumed with the moment as he was and the idea intoxicated him. Oliver ran his tongue along her lower lip, tasting her. With a breath, Felicity's lips parted for him and she deepened the kiss, giving him access to her he'd only dreamed of before. He cradled her head in his hand. The lingering kiss answered a number of unanswered questions and gave rise to many more.

Oliver broke the kiss before he was ready. He needed to regain some semblance of control before their first date was marred by something she might regret. Oliver cleared his throat. "Sorry. That was premature. I hear it's customary to wait until the end of the date to request a goodnight kiss." He pinched the edge of his bottom lip, already swollen and thirsty for more.

Felicity traced the length of his arm with her palm. Stopping at his hand, she entwined their fingers. "I don't remember you asking."

"That's because _you_ kissed _me_." He squeezed her tiny hand in his and moved toward the theatre where her favorite movie was set to play.

She slowed her pace. "I don't think so. You definitely kissed me and you didn't ask."

"I don't remember it that way."

She gasped. Her feet rooted in place. "So, you stole that kiss." She clucked her tongue.

Oliver's smile spread. "I'm a thief now?"

"I'm just saying. You didn't ask."

"Felicity?" He turned her to face him. "May I kiss you?"

Her stunned expression was perfect. Oliver made a mental picture to review later when she'd gone home. "Yes."

His fingers found her cheeks the way she'd touched him before, caressing her bottom lip with his thumbs. Oliver leaned forward, watching her eyes, seeking any change of heart. Her eyes slid shut. Oliver pressed his lips to hers, catching her bottom lips with his. The kiss was chaste, but powerful. Filled with promises he couldn't always find the words to say, but he vowed in that moment to always make the effort to show her how he felt. How much he cared. How much she meant.

Felicity wobbled in his arms. "Wow." The word was a whisper on her lips.

He tilted his head. "Did I steal that kiss too? Tell the truth."

Her head swung left and right. "Just my breath that time."

Oliver's heart thundered. "Good." In time, perhaps he'd steal her heart as well.

* * *

_**Okay everyone *waves* This was perfect timing because Nano is over and that means my deadlines are back in full force IRL. I never know how much time I'll have to write for fun at times like these, so it seems fitting for me to wrap up this story before I get swept away in the evil edits of 2014 releases. I've had the best time exploring this ship and I hope to be back soon, but for those of you following this story...alas...this is the end. **_

_**I hope you enjoyed the ride and that you are left with a fierce hope for happiness in the future of Felicity and her sidekick Oliver ;)**_


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